


To Sow a Barren Land: Book II

by XxIrisxX



Series: To Sow a Barren Land [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Drama, Future Character Death, Heavy Angst, Infertility, M/M, Mega sad ending averted!, Mpreg, Sad with a Happy Ending, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:43:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 45,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxIrisxX/pseuds/XxIrisxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil conceives.</p><p>Meanwhile, the lies thicken, darkness grows more powerful and no matter how careful Oropher is, he too is unable to resist his Realm being claimed by the same darkness. </p><p>Where on one hand evil thrives, on the other love too finds its way in two hearts. However, fickle as it is, Fate works in a mysterious manner and Thranduil and Rainion soon discover the cost of weaving out-of-the-reach dreams. </p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1736156/chapters/3705035">To Sow a Barren land: Book I</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is how I see it: had I owned 'The Hobbit' or anything else, I'd be famous all over the world and you'd see hot elves with buns in their ovens and lots and lots of steamy smex.
> 
> AN: Ouuuuukaaayyyy: So, here we are: Book II. I guess I am late in saying this but Thranduil might (will) come out as a little (maybe a bit more than little) OOC. It's real hard to keep him IC in such a situation. But if it goes way overboard, lemme know immediately! And yeah, I have taken ample liberty with the history of events. It's unfair to Tolkien but I hope you can forgive me. D:
> 
> Slowly, we will be driving towards The War of the Last Alliance. Thorin has taken a bit of a backseat but he will come to the picture. Meanwhile, you'll notice a change in Thranduil and Rainion's attitudes. Thranduil: He has no one by his side. He understands what he has done wrong and he tries to redeem himself. But more so, he just wants a friend. And Rainion: he has waited for so long and has received nothing but slaps across his cheeks. He has had enough. I really hope it shows through!

"The woods grow darker and the produce is scanty. It is not only because of the upcoming winter, Your Majesty," One of the advisors suggested, wearily looking at the king—who stared back thoughtfully—before he lowered his eyes and continued, "One of our patrols noticed a slow growth of power near Dol Guldor even though they haven't been close to it."

He paused a little and licked his lips. His throat felt parched all of a sudden and the way Oropher continued to stare only increased the elf's anxiety.

He looked up again and keenly waited for the king's judgement. He could feel his gaze becoming intense just as Oropher's orbs settled on him with awareness before they slid shut.

The elf shifted on his feet. He frowned as he was perplexed from the king's action. Greenwood was burdened with many troubles and the king  _was_ wise. However somewhere along the line, over the past few weeks, he did not seem to be as energised as he normally was.

Over the past few weeks, the court had seen lesser and lesser of the prince as well. Oropher said he was designated other duties. None believed it entirely but none dared to rival the king's explanation.

Licking his lips again, the advisor was about to call on his lord when he was stopped midway as the king straightened up and descended from his throne.

"And what of the dwarves? Have you any news of the state of that feud?" Oropher asked, folding his hands behind his back and beginning to pace across the room.

The elf's eyes followed him left and right and when Oropher glanced at him over the shoulders and frowned at him impatiently, he sighed. He quickly shrugged off his inattentiveness and said, "The word is: Doriath has sent scouts to all dwarf establishments. Villages have been claimed, prisoners were taken but none of them knew anything about the sudden attack."

The steady sound of steps stopped and with a sudden screeching sound, Oropher spun and locked eyes with him, startling the advisor massively. Green orbs were narrowed and before he knew it, quickened steps echoed throughout the room as the king hastened over to him and with a sneer on his face, Oropher tilted his head, " _What?_  Have the mercy of telling me there has been no casualties."

"There..." The elf stopped, his courage leaving him suddenly, as he stooped his gaze towards the ground. He shifted even more on his feet and hesitantly replied, "There have been  _some_ casualties, my lord."

"Does 'some' have a quantity or am I to take this as you putting my full discretion on the quantity?" Oropher snapped at which the elf winced and momentarily brought up his eyes till the king's mouth before his courage failed him and he lowered them on to the floor.

From what he had seen, Oropher's jaws were tight and his nostrils flared in anger, the likes of which none in that room wanted to be reflective of.

"So I am to  _guess_ the number because my informants believe  _some_ to be a range? Well speak up!" The king snarled through gritted teeth and it was clear that the patience he had restrained for so long was now dwindling.

Eventually, the advisor dared to straighten up and despite the glare he was receiving, he cleared his throat and with genuine fear-mingled hesitation answered, "Dale is in chaos. Three localities have been ruined by the elf scouts. They suspect it was their lord. For he was one who was considering a new tryst with our kind only recently."

He briefly glanced towards another colleague, who looked at him with pity, before setting his focus back on the elven king's grim face. Suppressing his own sense of foreboding of what was yet to come, he continued, "And as news reached to the Noldor, they responded to Doriath's call. It was they who worsened the situation by killing an innocent peasant. Then the feud began."

As he had predicted, fire erupted in Oropher's glare. His nostrils flared up furiously and chest heaved hard from trying to attain self-control from the violent anger that he felt inside. He directed his sharp vision towards the advisor and as the full heat of fire reached him, the other elf wanted nothing more than to  _not_  stand in front of a furious king.

"And Gil-galad  _allowed_ such atrocity?" Oropher hissed, narrowing his eyes dangerously and looked away, settling to glare at the wall in front of him. The elf felt relieved as he was not under such scrutiny. He breathed in the much needed air and spoke softly, "My lord...the High-king. He wasn't aware."

At that, Oropher's eyes flashed with such rage that it threatened to burn down whatever it was in front of him. His fists became tighter and his jaws were clenched with so much force that his face and arms began trembling.

"He wasn't  _aware_?" His tone spewed venom and his eyes flashed so infuriatingly, making the advisor flinch and automatically want to look down back on the floor. He was interrupted when Oropher faced him and rebuked mercilessly, "That fool wasn't aware that he might have vigilantes on his hands? Look what has happened now! It'll be exceptional luck if Erebor doesn't interfere! Very soon, Loth Lórien will be pulled into this silliness and if Lórien participates, I can only estimate how long we have before we are drawn into this as well!"

"I—"

"Doesn't matter though. Greenwood will not respond to such madness. There was a reason I chose to be away from those fools and I intend to keep it that way. I have bigger things to worry about. Like that growing power, you say?" Oropher changed his tone suddenly, his eyes now losing all traces of rage and curiosity quickly creeping in its place.

The elf was startled at the sudden change in attitude and he couldn't help but frown while he was trying to come out of the daze he was in.

"Y-yes," he started, looking at his colleagues for support who were just as confused and shrugged back at him. He withheld his urge to roll his eyes at them and directed his attention back on to his king, "The forest seems darker and gloomier. We have seen many winters but none can attribute to the darkness cast upon the Dol Guldur."

"But it lies in ruins. It is empty." Oropher wheezed, looking away and staring into space. His face lost its coldness entirely and a shadow of dread and fear could be seen in his expressions as he inwardly began deliberating.

The elf nodded and confirmed Oropher's dilemma at which, the eeriness in his expression all but increased.

"They believe it is magic. A very powerful magic."

"Something no mortal can yield." Oropher finished for the other, his eyes widening as the prospect of things dawned on him. "Or  _immortals_."

"Saplings, which had been planted after your return, withered and died. Animals are starting to move away. The patches of land which we thought to be barren are rapidly claimed by the woods." As he described, he noticed how gradually the elven king's face became tenser and tenser by the second. His eyes were staring off into the distance and were marred with a haunting feeling hat chilled the very essence of the elf's core.

"Perhaps these are all connected, my king." He ended off and waited for Oropher to respond. His own mind was concerned and the way fear crawled inside his own heart only attested to how right Orpher's eeriness was.

The king let out a slow and shuddered breath. "Perhaps one is a cause which has set the other's effect." He spoke with a chill, his voice rasped and face dry and his eyes shone with a dreadful suspicion.

After a while, he focused his vision back on to the advisor and even though he tried appearing regal and unfazed, a clear line of horror peeped out from those bright green eyes, making the other elf shiver with just as much trepidation...if not more.

* * *

Rainion poured tea onto a cup and carefully handed it over to Thranduil. He missed the grateful note in the other's eyes and ignored the little struggle the elf prince made as he tried to sit up straight on his chair with his growing belly.

He brought a plate of biscuits and truffles to the other and as his eyes met Thranduil's bright and gentle orbs, he lowered his gaze and turned away abruptly to set the plate on a nearby table, trying not to see how Thranduil's face suddenly twisted with sadness.

It would hurt him at other times when he'd probably rebuke himself for deliberately causing worry to the prince. He'd probably apologize heavily and would try to do anything in his power to get Thranduil to notice how he was willing to do anything for him.

But now, he was weary. He had done everything imaginable for the elf to be happy. However, repeated rejections had their toll on Rainion as well. He was tired and he was lethargic. He didn't wish to capture Thranduil's attention. He merely wanted to get his duties done.

"Rainion, please come closer."

The prince's voice entered his ears. It was still so melodic and yet so full of disconcert—yet Rainion felt nothing. He had grown hard and cold.

He nodded obligingly and came to the edge of the bed. "Do you require something, Your Highness?" He asked as curtly as possible, trying not to let his coldness seep into his voice.

The way Thranduil frowned slightly for a second only proved how  _partly_ successful he was. His eyes dropped on the empty cup and he took it, quickly turning his back to the other. He was headed for the table to refill but stopped in his tracks when Thranduil's voice chimed again, "Won't you look at me?"

He clenched his jaws and narrowed his eyes slightly, counting in his mind as he pushed the upcoming words down his throat. He again moved towards the table and did his task, handing the cup over to the other and carefully  _missing_ the prince's eyes huge with expectation as he looked over at the Silvan.

Rainion thought, perhaps it was the progressing pregnancy that drove Thranduil to a need for closure. Or perhaps he was the only elf who was with Thranduil for most of the day. Whatever it was, the Thranduil who openly disregarded his presence or his paternity was the same elf who was more mellowed and sullen each time Rainion chose to avoid him.

"Am I so vain that I don't deserve a fickle of your attention?" Rainion's eyes flickered for a moment and they settled on the Sinda. Thranduil smiled bitterly and began stroking his belly before he looked over at the other and let out a chuckle. It was by far the saddest form of smile Rainion had ever seen. It had no warmth nor will. It was as if the haughty prince had accepted all that he had done and was now in deep repent.

Yet his ice didn't melt. Still he felt no remorse for the blond. Absolutely  _nothing._

It was ironic—Rainion thought—that those very words escaped Thranduil's lips. Once he had so longed to hear them being sang by the divine beauty in front of him and once he had cried bitterly thinking just the same when he was cast aside. Now, he was the one being pined for his attention.

It was so ironic.

Thranduil read his mind easily and smiled a bit more. He extended an arm and motioned for the other to come closer and Rainion did, wanting to prioritize the refilling of tea but quite unable to do so.

"I suppose I am," Thranduil began speaking, his face falling into a gloom and his eyes sparkling with shame as he recalled the past events, at which Rainion's gaze remained unfavoured. "I have treated you with unfairness. It is only right for Eru to treat me thus."

Blue orbs danced as a vine of emotions rose up from his core and unfurled in his eyes. He gazed at the Silvan and despite utter sadness and remorse spreading all over them, a quiet glimmer of gratitude peeked out—which the other was not able to ignore of all a sudden.

"But He has been kind as well, you know." Thranduil spoke softly, his tone ringing sincerity and genuine gratitude. His lips curled revealing the ghost of a smile and he gently placed a hand on his small, round belly—his eyes warming when Rainion's gaze darted over to the area of a growing life. "He has granted a mercy in your form."

Rainion raised his brow but when he remembered just where he was, he quickly cast his face into a neutral mould and waited at what the prince had to say.

Thranduil noticed the reaction elicited from him and he looked down understandably for a moment before meeting the other's gaze, "Look at me. My father does not meet me in the eye. He fails to see happiness when he stares at my child. He sees betrayal. You never turned me away. You are the closest form of support I have at the moment and for that, I pray every day. I thank the Valar for the kindness I have been shown. For the kindness  _you_ have shown me even after I have..."

He paused and Rainion felt a twinge in his heart. It was so uncomfortable and it was so burdened that he found himself cursing at the blonde for wanting to have this conversation in the first place.

Thranduil breathed out and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the slant of his chair. Rainion made a face and was about to turn away when yet again, he was interrupted by Thranduil's voice.

"Yet you have stood by me. Taken care of me," His tone sounded sombre and whatever emotion he wanted to hide from his eyes were now drenching his voice.

Rainion bit his lips and brought himself to speak something—  _anything_ — that would make him any less uneasy.

"I am merely following the king's command, Your Highness." He replied ad his voice came out tough and unaffected, which was so uncharacteristic of him. Thranduil didn't seem to mind. He blinked open his eyes and once more held Rainion's gaze. His lips no more held that barest of smile he had before. Instead, his face reflected how serious he was and how he meant each and every thing that he spoke.

"Nevertheless," he responded gently, as if he suddenly understood exactly where he stood in Rainion's eyes and had accepted his stature, "Thank you."

And Rainion hated him.

Even after so much anger towards the prince, so many disdainful words he spoke of him in his mind, that creature still managed to throb his heart with a dull pain. Where Rainion should've felt cold, Thranduil's words still brought out sympathy. What he kept unseen, Thranduil still drew his attention back to it and no matter how enraged he was, seeing Thranduil so helpless and alone  _still_ twisted his heart with a forgotten emotion that Rainion buried deep within himself.

And for that he  _hated_ Thranduil.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Let's be realistic for a second. Had I owned 'The Hobbit', Tauriel would definitely be a character in the books, Kíli would definitely fall in love with Legolas (who would also be in the books but not quite as his dad is the star), Thorin and Thranduil would totally have some hot chemistry going and Thranduil would be having his little Dwelf daughter or son!
> 
> AN: Fast forwarding here a bit. ^^; Definitely some progress between Thranduil and Rainion and I'll be working with their developing bond from this point. Also, err...more mashing up of events. And chaos.

For days, they would play this delicate game. One would seek a chance to be looked at and the other would do anything in his power to look away. If Thranduil extended his arm, Rainion would draw back his own. If Thranduil tried hard to meet gazes, Rainion would look at anywhere but at the blond. If Thranduil's face twisted in sadness, Rainion's face would remain stoic. If Thrnaduil sought closure, Rainion would provide the most formal kind.

Rainion realized, their balance was on a precarious level dangling at the edge of a sword. If Thranduil slipped, he would fall. If Rainion slipped, he would never rise again.

He would not see the shy glances directed at him whenever he was busy pouring tea. He would ignore the bright blue pair of orbs shining expectantly at him, awaiting his response and the same blue eyes drooping when none would come. His ears would not register the soft voice calling out to him vulnerably and his heart would not burn and soothe at the same time when the same gentle voice would spread a cooling balm on his wounds.

As the pregnancy progressed, Thranduil's need to reach out increased as well. But each time he would do so, each time he would be leaving hanging on one end as Rainion curled further and further away.

It must've been painful for Thranduil, Rainion thought. He understood that what he was doing was unfair and that one day he'd have to answer to his ancestors about the way he treated someone who asked for his help. However, whenever he'd look at the sorrowful blue eyes, his mind would reel back to those days when the same orbs held nothing but lust and a distant gaze, lips moving and whispering the name of some other, the warm side of his bed and the way to the exit where porcelain long limbs would trudge quietly, leaving Rainion to be on his own.

It was then that his heart would tug with a feeling of simmering anger. He would cast aside the slight pull in his chest whenever that innocent face looked at him. He would hide away his feelings and he would shield himself away from the other's  _sorcery._

Still...

The trembling voice would quietly call for him. Shimmering eyes would be hopeful for forgiveness. Gentle hands would clasp around his own and would stop him from leaving Thranduil's side.

And Rainion would slip.

Thranduil shivered slightly, leaning against his balcony chair. His afternoon tea was long forgotten on the table in front of him. One hand was absently stroking his growing belly and the other was cradling it with a limpness which was only due to a strange lethargy. His eyes were glazed and blank, staring out into the distance, taking in the beauty he had been long devoid of.

A soft glow of orange was splashed across the sky, adorned by saffron clouds interlocking with each other in front of the setting sun. Streams of orange filtered through the clouds and as they fell upon the leaves and trees, they bordered them with a golden hue, evaporating gently into warm shades of red and brown.

As the sun rays became dimmer with the growing season, the forests too took on a darker contrast. It was the strangest of things. Thranduil hadn't been outside ever since his pregnancy began to show but he had seen many winters to notice the sudden tinge of darkness.

His thoughts soon changed course as memories of fresh air and star studded skied filled his mind. Oh how he wished to go outside! How he wished for a friend...

"Winter approaches," he said calmly, turning his head towards his right and frowning slightly when he was met with a light nod from the other before the Silvan turned his attention elsewhere.

"Are the pantries stocked?" Thranduil asked again and looked up at his caretaker eagerly, lowering his gaze a little when Rainion stared back at him with a forced distance and formality.

"They are well stocked, Your Highness," came the other's curt response before he busied himself with placing biscuits on the barely empty plate.

Thranduil nodded and kept looking in the other's direction. He was still hopeful that Rainion would indulge in his attempts to make conversation and in turn would actually allow himself to be something more than just a  _guardian_. But his hopes were diminished when Rainion didn't so much as spare another glance at him.

Thranduil's face felt and there had been a tightness in his heart as he unwillingly turned and faced the patch of woods as seen from the balcony.

His eyes started stinging and he bit his lips, trying to contain the heaving in his breath as a powerful wave of poignancy rolled over him.

He missed the little glance Rainion provided him wearily before resuming his work.

"Will you never forgive me?" A rasped voice cut through the uncomfortable silence, drenching it with grief which was not effortlessly concealed as Thranduil's tone cracked at the end.

He faced the other as silent pleads fell from his eyes. He gasped with a shudder and gritted his teeth when finally Rainion loaned him his focus.

Warm brown eyes were still cold and were harshly spewing criticisms against the Sinda male but they suddenly softened as Rainion's throat made a gulping action and he opened his mouth, trying to form words.

"It is not my place to forgive you for something you have the right to do.  _My prince,_ " responded the other in a chuffed manner, hidden much by his formal training and sheer will to keep that formality in place.

But Thranduil saw through.

"By that, you simply mean I control you and therefore have freedom of doing anything  _I_ want, regardless of it being fair or unfair," Thranduil frowned and contradicted gently, a little appalled by the level of courtesy the other held for him. Or rather, that which he  _had_ to hold for him.

He noticed the small twitch on Rainion's face and decided to prod a little further, "By that, you mean I do whatever I want without any regard for others around me."

At that, Rainion's face flickered flashes of hurt before settling back to its original coldness and Thranduil found his eyes growing with pure shock. He gasped and frowned disdainfully, self-loathe overtaking him as a hiss came out of his lips, "If you mean it, why can't you say so upfront?"

In response, the other's brows furrowed in complaint and he parted his mouth to say something before he closed it and directed an almost neutral gaze which simply made Thranduil  _fume_.

"Will you  _never_ talk?" A snarl covered his mouth and as he spoke, his eyes flared with rage born out of frustration, "Am I so unworthy to even yell at?"

He rose from his chair abruptly. The action made him to lose his balance a little and he caught sight of Rainion quickly rising from his own chair and darting across him to render his support but Thranduil raised his hand, making him to stop midway and look completely bewildered.

"You won't even look at me. I understand that. Whatever I did was horrible. And not a day goes by that I don't hate myself for it," Thranduil said in a tone which reflected the anger he mentioned, mingled with shame and disappointment. "You won't yell at me, you won't accuse me, you will do  _nothing_!" His gaze hardened all of a sudden and he narrowed his eyes, wanting to pierce through the other's head, " _Why_ will you do nothing? Why will you keep your calm and act as if you are unbothered? Tell me,  _why_  do you not want to save me from my disgrace?"

He paused and kept on staring wildly at the other. His breaths were swollen and his chest was puffing up and down so much that it disturbed the tranquillity of the whole ambience.

Rainion was staring back with wide eyes. His jaws were parted and he was completely overtaken by surprise and shock and the suddenness of Thranduil's outburst did nothing to help him with words.

At last, Thranduil gave up. He groaned and walked over to the railing. He placed his arms across it and supported himself, all the while keeping his head low so that he could contain any more outbursts which threatened to make their way. Hs fists turned white from gripping the railing too hard and his back started undulating up and down as his breaths became harder and harder.

Suddenly, he raised his head a little when he thought he had heard the quietest of all sound. Ever so hesitantly, he loosened his grip on the railings and half-turned towards the Silvan's direction.

It was his turn to be shell-shocked when his ears caught the sound again.

Rainion was speaking in the faintest of tones.

"What did you say?" he asked, once more hope shimmering in his eyes which only increased as Rainion answered him yet again.

"I hated you. I wanted you to suffer," The Silvan looked apologetic immediately and tore his gaze away. But after a moment, when he again raised them, Thranduil's heart felt warm all of a sudden and the expectation he had in him grew even more as Rainion went on.

"But that is not why I avoid you," his tone was cold. In spite of that, Thranduil felt a tightness spreading all across his chest as he detected the uncancellable hurt reflected off from the other's voice.

"Then why do you do so?"

And within that tension, a warm fire was slowly building inside his hearth. Thranduil didn't know why but he felt relieved that he was acknowledged. That he was spoken to. That the only person—who was helping him so much—wasn't ignoring him anymore.

"Because," Rainion paused and took a deep breath. Maybe it was the hue of the sky or maybe it was he whose face was glowing red. Nevertheless, his voice was breathless and he lowered his eyes awkwardly before they were brought up with an honesty which gripped Thranduil's entire attention.

"Because if I let myself to love you again and if I get hurt once more, I will surely die."

With that, he looked away once more and scrunched up his face, as if he was mentally rebuking himself.

As for Thranduil, his jaws were on the verge of touching the floor and his mind felt light all of a sudden as thoughts rushed in and rammed against each other. His face and nape burned with a stinging sensation and his cheeks felt so much heat that they matched the shade of vibrant red seen upon autumn leaves. His lips wagged and his words snuck back inside his throat. His mind went entirely blank as bewilderment and stun stirred inside his heart.

Rainion now fully faced Thranduil. He was hesitant still, yet there was a streak of confidence and ample of genuineness coming off from his eyes.

"But my own self betrays me." He spoke quietly and Thranduil never before felt a flutter in his chest amidst all the surprise and confusion he was feeling at the moment. "I can never bring myself to stop loving you. Even if I don't receive your love in return."

For a great while, Thranduil was unable to say anything. His eyes were broadened and his cheeks were glowing crimson.

He was confused and shameful and guilty of toying with the other elf's feelings. Yet, he wanted him nearby. He wanted Rainion's notice. He wanted the elf's forgiveness and he wanted him as a company. And even if he didn't admit it to himself, there was always a part of him which screamed at the top of its lungs— he wanted Rainion as a  _friend_.

His brain was muddled and his heart was beating loudly as a result of such rush of new emotions. But beyond such chaos, the fire that was smouldering inside his heath brunt brighter and brighter and as its flames touched Thranduil's core, he felt a warm sensation radiating throughout his body and somehow, it didn't feel wrong. It didn't speak of danger.

If anything, it brought a quiet little smile on his lips.

* * *

The court was humming with shrill whispers as the dwarven advisors argued amongst themselves. Each of their faces had been strewn with panic and not a single dwarf stood in composure as they began feeling the heat of the growing threat.

"Silence!"

Suddenly, the whole court lulled into quietness as the voice of their king boomed within the vast hall.

"How far has the feud proceeded over the weeks?" Thrór asked in a steel cold tone. Even if he was not showing it, his insides were becoming frigid with fear as the battle of the races became stronger.

"It has taken a worse turn, Your Majesty." One of the advisors spoke, his eyes laced with unspoken terror. "The Noldors united with the Doriath elves and have rode through every village of the Blue Mountains. It will be a matter of time when they reach us. Though, their search has grown slower with time."

The dwarf wasn't done. He went on and as he did, Thrór only prayed to the Almighty for the chaos that had reigned was something beyond the king's wildest nightmares.

"It is not a matter of rights anymore. It is a matter of kin. They will not rest till they destroy the offenders. We can only hope for their trail to grow cold."

"Has the Woodelves taken part yet?" Asked one concerned voice.

"No. Their king follows an isolationist doctrine," Thrór provided thoughtfully, his heart leaping uneasily as he remembered the might of Oropher and how easily he could turn against them. He only  _hoped_ for the Woodland king to maintain his doctrine.

"But Your Majesty," His attention was caught again by the other dwarf and just by the way he hesitated, Thrór knew that they were already in the deepest of pits.

"That is not all. A dark power is felt all around. The Istaris feel it and they speak of an ominous foe that grows stronger day by day. Rumour has it that..."

He paused and he seemed absolutely frightened.

Thrór felt his mouth growing dry and a cold chill was taking hold of his chest. He nodded, indicating the other to go on, which he did after swallowing thickly, "Rumour has it, apart from the great rings forged, there is another ring which holds immense power. Whoever it is, wields it and it grows in its hunger for evil as days pass."

Thrór stayed quiet for a long time. He felt all eyes staring at him with immense expectation. They believed their king to protect them and to provide solutions to their entire problem. However, this time, Thrór saw no way out.

He knew that the relation between elves and dwarves would never be the same. He understood that the elves were the least of his problem at the moment...but it was also true that to fight against the dark powers, he would require every dwarf to stand together. And though it was possible in light of this racial feud, Thrór realized very well that Erebor would be all alone if the others caught the air of them arranging the whole charade. And the necklace would catch wind soon enough.

"Then we hide the jewellery and we wait," he ordered grimly. "The elves' energy has definitely lessened from the start. With time, they will grow tired and will give up their search. They will not forget. But they will grow cold as the necklace becomes no more than a lore. Also, they have more things to worry about. Like the growing darkness. If we have felt it, they must have as well. Because of that, the elves will soon prioritize over their protection than of some necklace. The dark powers are the main matter of concern."

Things were escalating quickly out of hands. He had lost a valuable and powerful ally. He would not be above suspicion from the other race and if their secret got out, their own kin would retract their helping hands. This time, Thrór was extremely worried. He was afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Just one question—is it getting a bit complicated, you think? O.o


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely fluff here. :D

Thorin stood on the balcony, overlooking the steep descent of the slope where bare rocks eventually wrapped along with green vegetation. His mind was uneasy and his heart unsettled.

The situation had gotten worse. Yes, the elves' search grew colder and colder as no traces of the jewel or whereabouts of the offenders could be found. Yes, they were safe and well above suspicion on account of their misgiving with Mirkwood. Still, nothing could be hidden forever and Thorin knew perfectly well that more one tried to cover up his tracks, more obvious he'd become.

Then there was the growing concern of dark powers and that rumoured mysterious ring. A rumour so far but a strong one nonetheless.

Then, the void he felt...

He sighed and let out the disturbance he had been pending up within him. Time had stretched since he had last lain eyes of his 'One'. He missed him so terribly. They had a chance of getting together...

He gripped the railing hard when fragments of that day's events flashed in his minds. They  _could_ , if only Thranduil hadn't betrayed him thus.

He hung his head and waited for the anger to pass. Suddenly, the smell of chamomile and juniper filled his nostrils and he jerked up and turned around, grimacing a little when he found he was not alone.

It was a lady. An aristocrat by the looks of her. She ignored Thorin's unwelcomed expression and gently glided beside the dwarf prince, peering out the balcony as the cool breeze waved her honey-blonde curls.

"You must really be troubled," she said in a sweet voice, which faltered Thorin's grimace. "And it is not for the matter of the state."

"And how can you come to such conclusions?" Thorin asked, facing away from the lady and down onto the slopes.

The lady smiled and replied, "You are not attending court where they argue their points."

"Maybe I am fed up of ridiculous arguments," Thorin retorted back.

"When danger looms? Unlikely for the  _prince_."

"An audacious assumption," Thorin raised a brow, referring to both his title and the happenings of court.

The woman guessed what he was thinking and decided to clear his confusion up, "I do attend court, you know. I am not ignorant of the events  _or_  the personalities."

Thorin rolled his eyes and said, not tearing away from the scenery, "Then you'd not be ignorant to perceive how cumbersome they become and how one desperately needs to clear his head."

"Or his heart," she at which Thorin jerked his head and faced the other.

He felt a jilt of spark in his heart as he knew what was said was possibly right. Still, he didn't give away his thoughts and instead, frowned at the other, "Again, an audacious assumption."

The woman slowly turned towards him and for a while, regarded him. Her gaze became soft and somewhat sullen as a warm smile spread across her lips. At that, Thorin drew in his breath and even though he tried matching her gaze level by level, he found his strength melting away and he began feeling weak all of a sudden. Weak and  _exposed_.

He gave in at last and let his eyes drop to the ground and then to the scenery as he drew in a deep breath.

Surprisingly, the woman didn't rub it in his face. Instead, she resorted to stay by his side and remained still—as if giving him his own little space to feel whatever he was feeling.

"I can't pretend to understand your pain," she finally said, drawing Thorin's focus upon her. "It must be hurting a lot to let go of the one you love. Why else would you be so withdrawn?"

As she spoke, Thorin felt agreeing with her more and more and somehow, he felt relieved that someone else was able to read him...especially when he needed to be read the most.

"And surely none can compete with the one who holds your heart." She paused, now turning to face Thorin with a calmness surrounding her, "But surely one can hope to provide you with support and friendship while you try and heal your pain."

"And is it you?" Thorin asked trying to be condescending but failing miserably at it as his voice cradled hope.

The woman smiled and nodded, "If you let me."

At that moment, Thorin felt lighter. He wasn't relieved of the pain he felt, surely, but the pain now seemed to have a soothing balm lapped over it in the form of her words.

The woman smiled and took her leave. When she was a few steps ahead, Thorin called out to her and she turned.

"And will I not be allowed to know who my friend is?"

Her smile grew and her eyes basked in softness as she replied, "Esja."

Thorin was left with wonder and embarrassment as her face was completely forgotten by him. He felt his cheeks heating up when he realized he had been purposefully avoiding this woman after two or three meetings. The woman who was her  _fiancé._ The woman who was willing to be his friend.

Then she walked away. Thorin stood behind, feeling a glimmer of hope after many days of torment.

* * *

"I'd like to go outside." Thranduil declared, sitting up from his bed with a cringe. He faced Rainion and stared insistently. The other elf visibly sighed and shook his head as he walked over to the blonde, clearly administering his descent.

Thranduil frowned and cleared his throat, making Rainion pause in his stride which he resumed soon after.

"I want to go outside.  _Now,_ " he stressed, scrunching up his face when the other swooped behind him and fluffed up his pillows. "You hear me perfectly well, Rainion. I need not require to mind you how atrocious it is for you to ignore me."

"The atrocity hasn't slipped my mind, Your Highness. You need not remind me of it," Rainion responded lightly, facing Thranduil, a small chuckle bordering his lips.

Thranduil saw it and scrunched up his face even more. Having seen that, Rainion's smile widened and he stood up straight and said, a hint of mirth behind his now more amiable voice, "But your father, the King, has strictly ordered me to keep you out of trouble. I do not intend to be atrocious towards  _him_."

Thranduil bristled at that, his pride and haughtiness returning to him as much as the colour on his cheeks with his developing pregnancy. His eyes flared when he was talked down to and he shot the other a dangerous look. Rainion tilted his head almost rolling his eyes, before he raised both his brows to give a condescending look, at which Thranduil's eyes flashed even more with arrogance.

"My father runs the kingdom from his throne room and barely sets foot in my chambers and therefore, barely has direct contact with you." He responded in the same manner as he would to the non co-operating delegates. "Most of your time is spent here under my employ and as your employer and the rightful heir of Greenwood, I  _demand_  to be taken outside."

He heard a snort. Thranduil's expression turned from arrogance to pure bewilderment and embarrassment when instead of reverence, all Rainion did was throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

For a few moments, Thranduil struggled with how to school his features. Finally, when the bewilderment was too much, he gave up and almost childishly stated, "I do not believe I made a  _joke._ "

Rainion's laughter increased and he hunched forward, grasping his sides as his face gradually grew red.

Thranduil's face also reddened—not only because of anger but also because the unexpected amusement made at his expense.

"Stop laughing!" He jostled but Rainion was nowhere near following his command. As laughter tore through the Silvan and brightly echoed throughout the room, Thranduil took a deep breath, reached out behind his back and grabbed a pillow.

"I said stop  _laughing_."

He threw the pillow towards Rainion, who stopped immediately as it hit him and stared at his prince with surprised eyes. Not expecting to get such a serious reaction from the other, Thranduil too was staring back with plenty of awkwardness.

"I apologize," he started, taking his eyes off the other. "My action was rude and impr—"

He was stopped when the same pillow hit his face and plopped down on his grown belly. Thranduil gasped and looked disdainfully at the Silvan who raised his hands in the air and shrugged, not at all taking Thranduil seriously.

Thranduil turned his head halfway in the opposite direction, eyes remaining fixed on the brown haired elf, which held a look that promised Rainion eons of hardship. Rainion's face froze and very slowly, his feet twitched and were just about to take steps back when he was hit right at his nose by another pillow.

A smirk crossed Thranduil's lips as the other let out an unceremonious grunt and looked with disapproval back at him as his mouth hung ajar.

Thranduil gave off a cheeky smirk, his lush eyebrows raised to challenge the other from repeating that again. They were raised even higher, wanting to cross the limit of his forehead as did his eyes and he ducked to his right as the pillow whooshed past him.

A chuckled escaped his lips and it was caught by Rainion as a light of playfulness twinkled in his eyes. Weeks had passed and he and Thranduil began to feel more comfortable around each other and more  _frank_. Some would say they even margined along the term 'friend'.  _They'd_  say, they crossed the margin and became _good_ friends.

At least on Thranduil's part. As for Rainion—ever since he had declared of his feelings, he felt lighter and happier. The burden of avoidance which weighed him down was gone. Even if Thranduil didn't reciprocate, he certainly didn't turn him away. Instead, they both reached out for each other and grew to liking each other's company.

After a few rounds, Thranduil's face became sombre and upon noticing, Rainion lowered the pillow and walked over to the other.

"I wish you could step outside too," he said gently, at which Thranduil slowly brought his gaze up and settled it on the other's sympathetic face. "But you know what is at stake."

"My dignity," Thranduil scoffed and leaned against the soft pillows. He brought his hand up and absently stroke his now much prominent stomach where his child was growing healthily with the Valar's grace. "Or rather the  _king's_ dignity."

Rainion stooped down and barely touched the end of the bed. Thranduil scooted over, making room for him after which, Rainion sat and regarded the other with utmost sincerity.

"That is not true," he spoke trying to reassure Thranduil which he already knew wasn't the actual fact. Rainion understood that he had been caught and he blinked a few times before sighing, "Well that is not  _entirely_ true. The king fears for your safety."

"My safety will not be ensured by  _keeping_  me in here!" Thranduil retorted back but checked himself quickly as Rainion's face resonated nothing but calmness.

"My prince—"

" _Thranduil_. I asked you not to use my title."

" _Thranduil,_ " Rainion exhales quietly, "You have not been outside too long. You do not know what has come to pass. The woods...they are not the same anymore. They are not as vibrant as they used to be."

"Then perhaps I  _must_ see it for myself!" Thranduil reasoned but held back a frustrating sigh when Rainion shook his head.

"They do not speak of it much before me. But it is not the lull of winter. It feels...different _._  It feels  _wrong._ "

"All the more reason for me to see what goes on in my realm!" His interest perked, Thranduil sat up and ignoring the groan escaping from Rainion's throat, he locked his eyes with the other at which Rainion immediately became serious.

"I haven't set foot out of this wing for weeks now. I  _suffocate,_  Rainion. I must see the trees and the stars. Else I shall go mad from this blasted confinement." His tone was edged with pent up frustration but it quickly became polished with the power of authority Thranduil was responsible for. "And I must see what danger lurks. If any."

His eyes shone with determination and burned with a passion which would not be doused by any form of discouragement. Rainion became silent and he too stared back at the other. His own features moulded into the same infectious sincerity. Thranduil's gaze remained unwavered. It was clear that he had no intention of budging.

After a few more moments, Rainion finally sighed in defeat and stood up. As Thranduil was helped to his feet by a pair of strong arms, he couldn't help but smile in excitement.

The rumours were true. The trees indeed lost their shade of green and even as they endorsed the chillness of early winter, there was a tinge of grey covering the forest. Thranduil quickly recalled all those days ago when he had noticed a similar thing from the balcony. He had chalked it up to his imagination after a while of thinking but now, he was not as sure.

But his relief outweighed his concern for the time being. The forest was  _gorgeous_. The sun had set a while ago and the sky was draped with beautiful fabrics of evening blue. The moon was yet to come out and already, a few number of stars decorated the clear sky.

Thranduil paused in his walk and took a deep breath. His lungs were filled by the much needed fresh air. The scent of pines, spruce and wild flowers infiltrated his nostrils and heightened each of his senses as they came down on him like a cool, soothing shower washing away his frustration. The slightly cold air hit his face and freshened him up from weariness. His silken manes of gold danced and swayed in the light evening breeze. It was so blissful.

He felt a gentle touch on his left shoulder and with a long exhale, he turned towards the other side. Rainion's face came into view and it was so gentle and tranquil that Thranduil felt inexplicably drawn towards it.

"It is growing late," he said, guiding Thranduil towards the palace, "We must head back inside."

Thranduil shook his head and smiled with all of his innocence. "Let us sit here for a while longer. Please Rainion. It has been so long. I want to cherish the free forest for a bit more."

He bit his lips and awaited the other's consent. When Rainion nodded, his smile brightened up and he led the other to one of the trees which had a nice girth and an umbrella like cover of leaves.

He held his lower belly and with the support of the trunk to his side and Rainion from behind, Thranduil lowered himself on the forest floor, extending his hand up for the other elf to come and join him. The Silvan smiled and took a seat beside Thranduil and both sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the essence of the woods.

"I used to come here as a child," Rainion said, lost in reminiscence. A light smile ghosted his lips and his tone was so soft and quiet that it reached Thranduil's heart and breezed through it. "It was my own little corner where I could sit and relax. I would talk to the trees and would tell them how I loathed weapons' training."

Thranduil's eyes sparkled with a calm joy as he listened to the other. Unbeknownst to him, his own lips curled to a smile and all of his attention was drawn solely on the elf beside him.

"I hated how they destroyed. I promised the trees that I would never take up weapons, unless I had no other choice. Which is why I devoted my energy to more scholarly streams. Something that wouldn't involve  _forged_   _metal._ " He paused and faced the other as he said with a wry smile, "You must think I am a coward."

"Not at all," responded Thranduil. His starry eyes were gleaming with an indescribable light as his insides felt fluttery and warm. He felt infected by the gentility that came from Rainion. The more the elf talked, more Thranduil found himself drowning in the care with which each word was spoken. He found unable to look away.

"You are not a coward." His own tone was breezy and the flutter in his chest all but increased as he felt his face tighten with a rush of feelings.

"I hate weapons," Rainion countered. His eyes were warm and were swimming with emotions that Thranduil was no longer able to ignore.

He breathed in and lowered his eyes, looking at his lap as a dull and pleasurable throb settled in his core.

"You protect," his words came as murmurs and his voice was drowned by the heat rising up from his heart to his throat, face and ears.

Rainion's breath sounded hitched and Thranduil's fingers twitched as his gaze fell on to the hand resting beside his own. Very slowly, he raised his eyes, which were full of content and shining with joy as they danced between the warm orbs of the other.

His breath came out smooth and heaved. His chest rose and fell heavily but with a gentle transition. Thranduil's cheeks warmed and his eyes gleamed ever brighter like the stars above as he found Rainion's eyes holding him with adoration.

The wet sound of his lips parting distracted no one. The dull throb in his chest gradually turned to rapid beats of his heart as multitudes of emotions flooded him.

Thranduil brought his hands up slowly and ghosted them beside Rainion's face. Slender fingers moved a little, contemplating if they should go forward with what they intended to do.

Rainion's hands were too brought up and with much deliberation of their own, settled onThranduil's biceps before quickly fluttering away like a butterfly and settling again with their own pace.

Thranduil exhaled gently, lips mouth parting just a little more, revealing his pearly teeth and glossy inner lips. Gradually he brought his palms closer and lightly touched Rainion's smooth face.

They caressed his cheeks with their soft tips and at the delicate touch, Rainion's eyes fluttered and drooped down, settling on the soft pink flesh, gleaming like the morning dew.

Eventually, the tips of his fingers pressed against the other's skin, followed by their length and then the soft flesh of his palms as Thranduil cradled Rainion's cheeks.

He heard the other let out a shuddered sigh and the cool air hitting his own face, he brought it closer and closer, touching the tips of their noses together and brushing the other's lips with his own, keeping the agonizing inch between them as he felt Rainion's mouth moving by a miniscule amount in a kissing manner.

Rainion's lips skirted near his cheeks and stroke the corner of Thranduil's mouth before he retraced them along the borders of his upper lip, touching it nimbly as their noses caressed again.

Thranduil arms slowly encircled the back of Rainion's head, grazing against his hair before coming down along his nape and settling there, stroking it gently. As the Silvan's sweet breath hit against his skin, Thranduil's eyes fluttered shut and he gasped calmly when the palms on the his arms stroke lavishly across them, reaching down his back and wrapping them around his waist as he was pulled closer.

Thranduil's breath came out in shudders as the warmth in his heart increased in intensity. He sensed lips ghosting  _very_ near to his own, and as it caressed and teased his lips and face, Thranduil felt a beautiful chill descending down his spine and climbing back up again.

His lips were claimed—lightly at first, as the other carefully pressed his lips against Thranduil's soft pair, kissing each one alternating with a steady manner. As a response, Thranduil inhaled deeply and moved his lips against Rainion's—matching pace by pace, rhythm by rhythm—as if they were one orchestra, harmonized by an unseen master.

Thranduil brought one of his palms in front, never losing the touch and settled it on Rainion's chest, stroking it up and down in a very slow pace. He arched his back and leaned closer when his sides were caressed with just as much delicateness.

With time, their kiss deepened. Rainion sucked on Thranduil's lips, tasting the sweet nectar coating them and Thranduil tipped his head, parting his lips even more, inviting the other in. He quivered with pleasure as the insides of his mouth were brushed by the tip of Rainion's cool tongue, making him moan in the kiss and gasp slightly.

As he opened his mouth further, he felt Rainion's tongue lapping against his own, touching tips and caressing them before sweeping the walls of his mouth. Thranduil let the other take hold of him and moved his tongue and lips complimentary to Rainion's subtly demanding manner.

His mind was by that point devoid of any thoughts. It was overwhelmed in its attempt to understand each and every sensation which exploded in his head, eventually giving up and letting the emotions rush through as Thranduil was swept by the wave of them.

He felt warm all over and it was the same kind of feeling he once held once he was touched before, kissed before and _loved_ before. His limbs felt so weak all of a sudden and he wanted nothing more than to melt in the other's arms.

When their lungs burnt of air, they broke, gradually trailing kisses as they lessened the closeness between them. They were at arms' length from each other and yet the touch lingered on their bodies, as did their wonderful taste.

They didn't speak.

Thranduil's eyes were huge and they were shining with feelings he had long been denied. They held a new revelation as he admired the being in front of him.

Rainion's gaze was filled with admiration and the love he had forced inside of him. His brown orbs were twinkling with joy and a divinity as he took in the creature he worshipped  _then_ and had never  _stopped_ worshipping.

Suddenly, Thranduil's cheeks burned and he looked down to the ground. His eyes flickered to and fro as if he was studying the forest floor intently and the shade of crimson on his cheeks grew darker, spreading quickly to the rest of his face and neck.

Rainion himself was faring no better. Once he was snapped out of his enchantment, he felt panic rising in him and desperately searched his mind for any appropriate excuse he might have.

Had Thranduil noticed, he would surely laugh at the disoriented state of the other elf. However, he himself was too flabbergasted to think of anything else.

The rush of emotions he felt dimmed momentarily before crashing against him yet again like a powerful tidal wave.

Hesitantly, he gulped and looked up at the other. His cheeks burned all the more when he found Rainion staring right at him.

The poor elf looked miserable— as if he had committed a great sin—before he quickly drew his arms away and rested them awkwardly against his sides, bringing them to his chest and crossing one over the other.

It was then that Thranduil noticed where his own arms been. He darted his eyes on Rainion's nape and back on the other's face.

Instead of drawing away, he curled his fingers and laced them tightly against each other, not missing the look of surprise on Rainion's face before he lowered his gaze.

The Silvan opened his mouth and he let out a gasp as his eyes revealed the pure shock of Thranduil's actions. His cheeks were glowing red—much like Thranduil himself—and he began breathing heavily as if his chest was constricted by the tightest of all ropes.

Biting his lips, Thranduil let his faltered eyes be brought up again and as he let them fall on Rainion's face, they shimmered with mirth and shyness.

It was so unexpected and so unthought-of. He pined for Rainion as a company. He sought out his forgiveness and extended his hand to a much needed friend.

His face grew even hotter and his heart was rampaged by a warm flood which he never thought he would feel again.

And when his lips cracked with a slowly developing smile, and when Rainion smiled back, Thranduil just  _knew_ how his friend came to mean much more.

So much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The drama is not gone. But this is a new chapter for every one of them. Hm, yeah. It's not Thorinduil...but...it would be kinda unrealistic at this point, right? Please review and tell me what you think so far~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Only in my dreams...
> 
> AN: So now we dive into the other half of the story. I intend to wrap it up before it gets more complicated.
> 
> Thanks a bunch to those who've supported this fic. :)

_Respected King of the Woodland Realms,_

_It has come to our attention that the Blue Mountains bear dwarves of most despicable nature but despicability is all that they bear. The very conceited nature of dwarves is such that they will do anything to snatch that which is and never was rightfully theirs. Such is their folly that they prefer to continue with the racial bigotry instead of simply handing over the heirloom of the great Elu Thingol._

_As you are completely aware, the riots have taken a sharp turn. The relation between elves and dwarves no longer rest on will— be it good or bad. It hangs dangerously by a thread. It is not about the necklace anymore. It is about the matter of kin, the matter of race and the matter of racial pride. The feuds have grown colder only physically. Though, I should say that seeing how it has escalated, one can easily be feigned into thinking that it is as active as it had been months prior—when it all began. Distrust lingers and there is also the fear of life. And it is that fear which snags the thread. With time, all will collapse and two races will be abolished by the fire that will never douse._

_However, such is not the reason why I write to you, King Oropher. I write because another great danger looms over us. Not only on dwarves, men or elves; not only on Sinda, Noldo or Avari but on each and every realm that prospers in Arda._

_There lies a dark power which grows stronger by the day. The darkness not only affects us but also those around us. The trees grow ill, the wildlife grows unsteady, and the upsurge of so many orcs is an entirely new development. Word is around— of which, I believe without a doubt, you possess great knowledge—that in spite of the known ring of powers, another ring is forged. They call it the One Ring. They whisper and dare not investigate its actual existence but rumours also speak of this ring bringing all kinds of evil and_ _ desiring _ _evil from whoever wields it. The master of this ring must be identified. The ring_ _ must _ _be found and it must be_ _ destroyed _ _._

_In light of recent events, the investigation of the necklace has been made of a lesser priority. It is still ongoing but I have summoned the majority of my soldiers back under my keep and have started gathering further knowledge of this sorcerer and the ring they speak so fearfully._

_While I respect your judgement, King Oropher, on your doctrine I must request you to set aside the differences our respective kins have been pursuing. It is inevitable of the evil threatening Arda and it is inevitable to face a war which breathes down upon us. I ask you to join me in the war and I hope you will impart your wisdom and your strength in the fight against evil. I know you will deliberate carefully—as you have always done—and will come to the right conclusion._

_Sincerely,_

_Erenion Gil-galad_

Oropher stared back at the letter with still eyes. He sat, without shifting or without any form of movement which the king would normally portray if he was under stress. A cold chill settled in his heart. His mind was churning with many thoughts, pertaining to politics and mostly how it would affect  _his_ kingdom.

He reached out for a piece of parchment and dabbed his quill in the bottle of ink. He bought it on to the parchment and kept it hovering before he sighed and placed the quill back inside the bottle.

He knew very well what Gil-galad had been speaking of. His own sources too mentioned of a greater and powerful surge of power coming from Mount Doom. His forest was blackened with sickness of purity and none was spared from the ill-boding feeling that arose from Dol Guldur.

He joined his hands together and rested his chin upon it. All of a sudden, he wished for Thranduil's counsel. It was such a great matter that he wanted as many refined opinions as possible.

A groan escaped his throat as he rubbed hard circles on his cheeks, quickly discarding the idea. Their relation had become a little uncomfortable over the months. He had hoped he could see past the sire of his grandchild but he simply couldn't overlook the blood on the dwarves' hands and the betrayal Thranduil had unwittingly and unknowingly caused. It wasn't his fault but Oropher couldn't face him yet.

His hands travelled upwards, past his forehead and tensed fingers tangled with the long golden locks. He set his eyes on the NoldN

Noldo High-king's letter and glanced blankly at it.

There was also the fact that Thranduil was heavily pregnant. Five more months and he would be due for the birth. The healers already told him how delicate Thranduil's state was and how the slightest of anxieties could threaten the life of the child and well as its father. And if this child was lost, then there was no guarantee of Thranduil conceiving another one. His son would not be grieved. He would  _fade_.

His sigh escaped in trembles as he rubbed his eyes. He was in complete dilemma, stemming right from the pit of his stomach. He had his people to worry about and if Mirkwood engaged in war, then there would be no way out of the evil one's attention. And if Mirkwood  _didn't_ , it would not be spared also. Dol Guldur was but a throw of a stone away. Mirkwood would be affected first. Then there was the request of the High-king himself...Sinda and Noldo conflict aside, their strength would dwindle if the Noldo found out that their king's call was rejected. Mirkwood would obtain no help at all should they require it.

The uneasiness in his heart grew and Oropher's eyes became more focused. He reached for the quill again and started scribbling down a response.

He hoped he had made the right choice.

* * *

 

Thrór paced back and forth in his chambers. His arms were crossed behind his back and his strides were so frantic and fast paced that only increased his tension. His sleep was ruined and his appetite was lost. His jolliness was long gone and instead, a weary shadow fell upon his face which received many inquisitive glances but no queries.

He looked up at the sound of a polite knock on his doors. Stopping in his pace, he sighed and ordered, "Enter."

He let out another breath when in came Thorin.

"You asked to see me?" The young prince asked. His face was laden with concern and prediction of the turn their conversation would eventually take.

Thrór nodded and gestured the other to come and take a seat. Thorin did so, his eyes never really leaving the form of his grandfather and stiffly accepted the drink he had been offered.

Taking a sip of his own drink, Thrór came to stand in front of the other and exchanged intense glances. Thorin quirked his brow, wanting the king to vocalize whatever that was bothering him at which, Thrór's frown appeared and deepened in a matter of seconds.

It took him two more gulps of his drink before the king finally spoke, "They will find out it was us. They have withdrawn from the Blue Mountains."

He clenched his jaws as Thorin's expressions grew darker. The younger dwarf held the drink in his hand, forgetting all about it, as he stared with hints of fear.

"It'd be futile to hide it," he provided unhelpfully, eliciting a strained sigh from the other. Subconsciously, the grip on his glass became harder and he said in a tone which was becoming grimmer by the second, "What do you intend to do?"

"Act like it doesn't concern us," Thrór responded fast, his eyes darting over to the non-tasted drink in Thorin's hand. Bringing his gaze on to the other, he locked his eyes and went on, "The elves have retracted their search by a miniscule amount and are redirecting their energy to find this sorcerer and the ring. It bears ill-will and will threaten Arda as days go by."

As each word was spoken, Thorin's eyes grew bigger just as Thrór's own pair shrank as a grave sense of fear and ominous foresight took over them.

"You suggest we lend help?" It wasn't a question which Thorin had in his tone. It was doubt for his gaze faltered with uncertainty, uneasily glancing to anywhere but Thrór's face.

Thrór finished his drink and took the glass from Thorin's hand. The dwarf prince let out a mild gasp and brought his bewildered eyes to settle on the other as he took giant gulps from the glass.

Finishing the alcohol, Thrór set the glass down heavily against a nearby table and for a while stood silently in front of the younger dwarf. He felt the anxiety rising within Thorin and the pair of eyes staring at him was burning with curiosity and anticipation as he awaited Thrór's suggestion.

At last, the king blinked and took a deep breath. When the coldness in his chest melted away from the burning itch of alcohol, he gave a reply.

"We will not respond to the call of the war," he said, his voice becoming frigid with a grave sentiment as Thorin's brows started frowning with confusion.

Thrór noticed the change in the other's expressions and continued, without giving Thorin a chance to voice his thoughts, "For there  _will_  be a war and though it is extremely unlikely for them to call upon our aid, still we shall not participate."

"What if the danger looms over  _us_?" Thorin finally reasoned, dilemma twisting his face, "What then? Will the co-operation from dwarves be enough?"

"It must!" Thrór's voice became sharper as he hissed like an animal, desperate to keep his life. Thorin's eyes widened at the sudden unexpected reaction before they shrank under the weight of a deep frown. Thrór sighed and eased his breaths, trying to keep his temper in check. When he was confident enough, he elaborated, "And since the search of the necklace will no longer be the main issue, it gives us a window of opportunity to keep things united with our race while we keep it well hidden."

Thorin nodded in understanding and stared ahead at the other's feet with a far-away look.

"You must wed soon."

The dwarf prince's head was jerked up as he looked at his grandfather with defiant eyes. Thrór remained unfazed. He had his reasons and Thorin would be able to see them by now. In the strict manner of a politician, he said, "For if we are to be caught in a battle, then you and I will participate. Erebor will require an heir."

Thorin remained quiet for a great while. His eyes were steadily viewing the king's face and even though his expression was devoid of any other emotion, Thrór understood the level of internal debate his grandson was facing.

"You shall be wedded later this month. It is in haste but it can be done. Half the arrangements are already made," he said, his eyes softening very little with sympathy before they were clouded again by regal thoughts. "If this  _Necromancer,_  as they call him, strikes he will hopefully start with the realm closest to him. And if what sources say is correct, then we were right to cut off ties with the Woodland Realm."

At the mention of Greenwood, Thorin's eyes flickered with an intensity belying every emotion of worry, fear and passion before they slowly dimmed with the direness of their own situation and became completely cold and neutral.

"Very well, grandfather." The dwarf prince finally consented as he rose up from his chair. "Your wish shall be fulfilled."

Thrór's eyes wrinkled a little as he smiled in the smallest of reliefs. He pardoned the other and watched Thorin's retreating back, feeling a slight shift of weight in his chest. He held pride in his eyes—pride for his grandson whom he had expected to rouse up disagreements when it came to his marriage. Thranduil would always be a soft corner for Thorin, he realized but as a grandfather, Thrór was glad that the prince was beginning to consider his kingdom over the trouble-bringing elf.

And as a king, he was relieved to keep his people safe.

* * *

 

A gasp escaped Thranduil's lips as he hunched forward, holding his stomach with both hands. Rainion looked up from the book he was reading and attempted to stand up from his spot beside Thranduil but when the elven prince showed no sign of anything serious, he gingerly sat back on the chair beside Thranduil's bed, keeping a close eye on him.

Thranduil frowned lightly, waiting for something to happen before his forehead smoothened and he lay back against the pillows. He lifted up an arm and settled it beside him, while another gently caressed the child growing inside. His eyes darted over to the other and when he noticed Rainion observing him, he smiled and reassured, "It was just a flutter."

Rainion stared at him disbelievingly and shook his head. "You don't react the way you did if it was  _only_  a flutter."

"I wouldn't react otherwise for something as _unexpected_ as a flutter," Thranduil replied, giving the other a pompous look. He knit his brows together and squeezed his eyes shut as he cradled his stomach frantically.

Panic filled Rainion's chest as he quickly kicked back the chair and stood with much haste, leaning over the other.

"What is the matter?" He asked, gently leaning Thranduil back. His heart beat wildly as Thranduil let out a groan and bit his lips, refusing to lie back.

"I shall get the healer," his tone was full of dread as he quickly drew away and faced the door. His eyes grew wide in shock when his hand was gripped by another, pulling him down and stopping him.

As Rainion looked back, he couldn't help but conceal his surprise when he saw Thranduil looking at him hard while he tried to contain himself by regulating his breaths.

"Why  _not_?" He almost yelled, heading towards the door anyway but gasped out loudly when Thranduil's strong hand pulled him towards the bed.

The elf breathed heavily and eventually his expressions relaxed as did his breathing. After a few moments, his eyes cleared up and he lay back against his pillows, sighing deeply when the pain was gone.

Rainion's heart still beat wildly. He dropped on his chair and tried to say something. However, his logic failed him and he simply stared with confusion at the other, unmindful of his hand still being gripped.

"What was that?" He asked quietly, at which Thranduil's temple furrowed just a little as he exchanged glances with the other.

Rainion was growing impatient. He was still terrified of what he had witnessed and pushed on, "You will tell me or I  _will_ bring the healer."

Thranduil's eyelids dropped just a little and he released Rainion's hand from his clasp, settling it on his stomach as he felt the life within it. He sighed and looking up, he spoke gently, "I have seen the healer. She says it is stress."

"It has happened before and you didn't  _tell_  me? Why  _are_ you stressed?" Rainion scowled, angry at the irresponsibility Thranduil displayed.

"Why would I  _not_  be?" Thranduil countered with irritation in his tone. "I have heard what goes around here. I am aware of what our home is now called. They call it  _Mirkwood_! _"_

Rainion pursed his lips, as if he was beginning to say words which shrunk back inside his throat. After a few trials, when Thranduil's eyes full of anger born out of concern caught his attention, he sighed and gave in.

"I'm sure it is nothing for you to bother about," Rainion responded, though he came off to be weaker than he intended.

Thranduil bristled and shook off Rainion's excuses.

"Do I give off the impression of being naïve or is it your general assumption that I bear intelligence far lesser than an infant?"

The Silvan stayed silent. He knew better than to interrupt Thranduil when he was this angry. Instead, he let the other speak and decided only to voice his thoughts when the other had calmed down.

"Look at the woods!" Thranduil scowled, sitting up straight as he narrowed his eyes, "Do you not  _see_ the darkness or do you mean to tell me I am the only one who feels a strange vibe?"

The elven prince narrowed his eyes even further as his anger increased when he was met with patience.

"I may not attend court, Rainion but do  _not_  make mistake of ever  _thinking_  that I am ignorant!" He ended, breathing hard as blazing orbs took in the other's calm form. Soon enough, the fire within them dimmed and eventually started smouldering and it was then that Rainion choose to speak.

"Your father worries how this might affect your health," he said, at which, Thranduil scowled even more. "We simply wish for you to be well. Nothing more."

"And keeping me in the dark would not serve your purpose! One day, I  _will_ come to know and who is to tell if things will not be more dangerous then?"

"True but look what stress has brought upon you." Rainion responded with firmness, relaxing a little in his tone as Thranduil softened by a bit. "We needed to protect you from  _that._ "

"If you wish to protect me, then you will not exert me by making me guess." Thranduil replied, his eyes half-lidded as he looked straight ahead. "You will tell me everything in detail and I promise, if I know, I'll be calmer and less anxious."

Rainion considered Thranduil's words. He debated whether to oblige or not but as Thranduil's logic made more sense to him, he nodded with much hesitance.

"But the king must consent as well," he warned, already feeling a helpless sigh in his throat when Thranduil seemed livened up at the suggestion.

"And you must speak with the king."

He didn't miss how the other's face darkened a little at the mention of his father. However, he compromised and nodded before a whisper reached Rainion's ears, "Thank you."

The Silvan offered a smile and leant forward, placing a gentle kiss on the blonde's lips at which the other responded back with light kisses of his own.

As they pulled back, Thranduil glowed with gratitude and trust which had come to pass between them. He smiled quietly at the other, his cheeks adorning a shy tinge of red, and Rainion smiled back, feeling the slow spread of warmth all over his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now you know why the elf-dwarf thing never settled. No direct confrontation equals cold war. Seen it happen waaaay too many times. Okay, crappy explanation—I know! And ooh, sneakiness is smart but should it pay? Hmmmm. And Thorin/Esja is not the real focus here. So I'll keep it to a minimum. But not like, implication with one or two lines. Paragraphs maybe. Which...is still less compared to the main *main* pairing.
> 
> Okay, I'm ranting here. Please review and lemme know if I've popcorned your brain! I hope not! D:


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Sow a Barren Land
> 
> Disclaimer: Okay, not even in my dreams. *pouts*
> 
> AN: Alrighty! The coffee beans are in the machine. Water is boiling. We are on track to the War of the Last Alliance...well, my own warped version of it. Thranduil is five months along and he will not be spared from the drama! But this chapter kinda has fluff. :3
> 
> Many thanks to all who have reviewed/bookmarked/kudo'd :)

Doors of the study burst open and a whirl of robes flew past, startling Oropher from the documents splayed on his desk. He looked up to see the 'raging tornado' and frowned the moment later when his eyes landed on an impatient figure standing across him with a very serious expression.

On seeing who it was, he masked his surprise quite well. For it had been months since they properly talked. Much less,  _see_ each other. Initially, he was angry but as it faded away, Oropher found himself being pushed away from his son's life as matters of state grabbed his entire attention. Somehow, he too pushed Thranduil away from him. That was what singed him every day and every night.

"I'd expect some courtesy from the prince of Greenwood," Oropher said with irritation before turning his focus on to the document.

"I apologize for lack of it," Thranduil answered promptly, "Though I'd expect knowledge on  _Mirkwood._ "

Oropher quickly looked up from the text and at his son, clearly surprised from the mention of the new name. Thranduil stared back dubiously, raising his chin a little as he became more impatient.

"You are not supposed to know that," Oropher said disapprovingly, mentally noting to have a word with that Silvan elf.

"Oh  _come now_  Adar. Ignorance is the last thing you'd expect from me!"

"Obedience is another thing that I'd expect," Oropher retorted back, absolutely dissatisfied at Rainion who couldn't do that one vital task.

"And trust is another which I do not  _need_ to expect!" Thranduil's replied, disdainfully looking back at the king which made him wince slightly at the harshness of the words.

With that, Oropher quirked his brow and took a good look at his son. Thranduil had a scowl on his face, concern and annoyance were engraved in his eyes and he stood tall and straight, drenched in every bit of his arrogance which made anyone look past the huge belly in the middle.

Finally, he sighed and gestured for Thranduil to take a seat. When he did, Oropher gazed once more and as Thranduil glanced back with an unfaltered gaze, he finally conceded.

"If you feel any discomfort, you shall be taken to the healers." Oropher warned at which, Thranduil narrowed his eyes and nodded with much resistance.

"I know I should've not neglected you so. You might feel I was disappointed. I'd lie if I said I wasn't at first. But trust me my son," He paused, exchanging a glance with the other, whose demeanour was understandably hard. "I realized you were helpless at that point and what I did was unjust. But I wanted to keep you safe from everything."

He noticed Thranduil shifting in his seat. Even though the prince spoke nothing, the way he was looking now pulled Oropher's chest with a heavy weight. The king sighed one more time and swiftly changed his demeanour. He shielded his paternal feelings and hardened his eyes. He would have to be tact with what he was about to reveal. Thranduil noticed the change and he too schooled his face with utmost seriousness as he let the king speak.

"Listen carefully," Oropher rose from his chair and walked over to the window beside Thranduil. The prince's eyes followed him and burnt on his back as he looked ahead. Steeling himself, Oropher went on as his tone took the form of utmost fact and unbiased diplomacy, "For what I am about to reveal involves so many realms and factors. A grave danger looms over us and I fear we shall be facing it sooner than all others."

* * *

The court was in complete disarray. Only a handful of advisors were present but the chaos they roused up exceeded that caused by a thousand such dwarves.

"The Necromancer grows stronger. Animals behave strangely in Mirkwood." One advisor spoke, worry flashing in his eyes as he informed the king.

"Giant spiders thrive!" Another added.

"The sky grows darker. The power is more evil!"

"The elves are preparing for war. We must prepare to protect ourselves as well!"

All of them had ashen faces. Their voices were frantic and their eyes were wild with uncontrollable fear.

Thorin glanced at his king who looked at no one particular but had a deep frown on his face as his mind weighed situations.

"What do you think should be our course of action?" He asked a bit loudly, trying to jerk the other out of his trance. When Thrór didn't pay heed, Thorin's own frown increased. He looked at the others briefly and when they seemed to be paler than before, he prodded again, this time with more adamantly, "Should we seek co-operation from the other dwarves? The necklace is hidden. We do not have to worry."

A silence fell upon the vast hall. All eyes remained still on the hunched form of their king. Beneath those bushy eyebrows, they could see how Thrór's eyes remained fixed on to the floor. The frown between his brows grew and sounds of sighs and deep breaths filled the walls.

"My king?" Thorin prompted, feeling an unsettling weight in his heart as a cold chill ran up and down his spine. He inhaled, the frost increasing inside him as he waited for the other to respond. " _Grandfather_."

Finally, the orbs beneath all that hair flashed. The advisors held their breaths as the king's steady stare fell upon them before darting over Thorin, who went utterly rigid.

"Prepare to defend," he ordered in a voice, breezy yet not any less grim. He met Thorin's gaze with his own eyes as sharp and cold as steel. Thorin straightened even further feeling the pierce of those orbs. Then, Thrór spoke in such a way which had no traces of insistence, "Hasten up the wedding. We require an heir."

At that, Thorin's eyes grew big just as his chest swelled with the shrill sound of inhalation. The freeze in his chest was now colder than ice and as shards of it pricked him, his heart began throbbing in a hot stringing pain.

He didn't know how long he had stared. When the murmurs of the others entered his ears, he let out a shuddered breath but stiffened immediately as his eyes landed on those of the king, still glancing with determination. The back of his mind screamed in protest. His heart panged with the fragments of frost penetrating it again and again and each time, it grew merciless than the last.

With the last bit of strength, he nodded.

Thrór's eyes softened briefly with relief before they hardened again as he proceeded to advise his counsel. However, his words were drowned out from Thorin's ears as the prince's thoughts wandered elsewhere.

He found himself letting go of the last piece of fabric that tied him to his desired. The knot broke loose and the fabric swayed before falling and slipping away. The image of a smooth alabaster face came to his mind but it was no longer clear. The burning orbs of blue flashed inside his head but just as soon as they came, they dissolved into an abyss of darkness. Eventually, Thorin's mind was rendered with a blank slate.

Without any words, he stormed out from the throne room. Heads turned and worried voices called after him but he ignored it all. Hastening his pace, he made his way towards the balcony where he knew he'd be left undisturbed and where he could think. A hurricane of emotions ramaged his chest and Mahal knew how much he needed to sort them out before he went insane!

* * *

Thranduil sat in a stupor as Oropher finished narrating the events. His eyes were dazed and his mind was completely empty as he seemed like he himself didn't know which factor to grasp first. One thing led to another and with the slightest push, everything would crumble.

He breathed slowly and steadily, a shaking hand gently touching his stomach. Concern clashed with Oropher's strictness and as he noticed Thranduil's frigid form, the father in him became worried and he came to stand in front of the other, gently touching his shoulders for support.

At the touch, Thranduil snapped out of his trance and with huge blue eyes laden with dread, he stared, silently directing all of his questions. Oropher sighed and looked to his side before meeting Thranduil's gaze. He had no answer for that which Thranduil sought to ask.

The younger elf's eyes flicked with a sudden burst of presence and he spoke urgently, breaking the silence which stretched between them, "Gil-galad's troops are well endowed with weapons. Their armour is stronger and more advanced than ours. How do we fare a chance with what we've got?"

"I cannot ask him for supplies." Oropher replied at which, Thranduil's eyes flashed even more with anger.

"I would  _never_ suggest you do so," he replied as inherent pride coloured his face, "But it is unfair."

"And yet rational," Oropher countered. His voice embellished the dread he felt and his face grew solemn at the same pace with which coldness dawned on Thranduil's expressions. "For if war starts, Mirkwood will be the first one to fall."

Thranduil nodded but his scowl grew as he stared on his lap, clenching and unclenching his jaws before he asked hesitantly, "And the dwarves?"

Oropher's eyes flared with anger and he withdrew his hands from the other's shoulders, making Thranduil glance at them momentarily. "We do not co-operate with kin slayers."

He noticed the look on Thranduil's face which was none other than concern. However, just as soon as it had appeared, Thranduil overcame it swiftly enough. It was odd. He thought Thranduil would fret for his ungrateful lover. However, it seemed like the feeling went away on its own rather than Thranduil trying to hide it. Oropher noticed but he didn't comment.

"And both sides have already expressed where we stand. No. We shall not form an alliance with them."

"Then who  _will_ we form an alliance with?" Thranduil asked and it had been much longer since he sounded so tactful.

Oropher's eyes gleamed as pride swelled in his chest. He could see traces of the old Thranduil rushing back in his son's form. The cloud of depression that had veiled him was beginning to break and the father was never before so relieved.

His lips twitched with the barest of smile and he said, gaining every bit of attention from the other, "The men."

"The men?" Thranduil sounded surprised. He  _was_ surprised and his wide eyes did no attempt to hide it. "Adar, they will fall long before we reach Mount Doom! How can you put trust on  _men_?"

"You are way too ignorant of what strength others possess, my son!" Oropher chided lightly at Thranduil who quickly controlled himself and let the other explain. "Those who show will in times of utter carnage are ones with heart and power. The men have responded. The men are willing unlike  _dwarves_ who hide in their tunnels. So yes. I put trust on men."

Thranduil's expressions softened as he thoughtfully stared on his enlarged stomach. Oropher's hardness melted away at the very sight and he gingerly placed a hand on the area, causing Thranduil to look unexpectedly up at him.

"I do not trust the Noldo. But I do not doubt them in times of need. I shall not be Gil-galad's pawn. But I can't very well let everything that I've built to be set to flames." Solicitous feelings took away the edge in his face and as he caressed the spot, a twinkle of happiness shone in forest green orbs, hardened over the years.

He withdrew his hand but still, his eyes were transfixed upon Thranduil's developing child, a gentleness and reminiscence marring them as he thought of the times back when his wife too expected their precious son.

"And I can't let those that I love be set to ruins," He added quietly, and smiled slightly when Thranduil glanced at him with considerable understanding. His face was briefly marred with hesitation as Thranduil seemed like he wanted to tell something. But he quickly decided against it and brought back the seriousness he had about him.

Yet again Orpher noticed but somehow, he didn't think it proper to address it.

_Not yet, at least._

* * *

Light steps broke his thoughts and Thorin stared ahead with attention before he addressed the other without even looking back, "I am to be married. Sooner than the month ends."

"I know," came a soft reply as the person stood behind him with reservation and politeness.

Chamomile and juniper blossomed throughout the air and Thorin sniffed them heartily, immediately feeling a lot calmer as he faced the other.

"I can't promise my heart to you." He said again, and  _again_ it surprised him how understanding the other was.

"I know," Esja replied and remained still, waiting for Thorin to speak his turn.

"Are you accepting a loveless marriage?" Thorin asked but this time, his factual tone wavered with surprise and uncertainty. He felt all the more confused and frowned when the other nodded. "That is a great sacrifice. You will do that for me?"

At that, Esja's face revealed the determination she had and without a hint of doubt, she responded peacefully, "You sacrificed as well."

Thorin's eyes flickered as he was caught but before he could say anything else, they stripped away the bewilderment, fell on the woman and allowed her to say, "And it has been arranged by our elders. I had no say in it. But...I am not disappointed. I do not seek your heart as your lover. I know that will never be. However, as I had said before, I value friendship more. This marriage is loveless, but it promises me a great friend. That is all I ask."

Thorin was at a loss of speech. He felt the ice in him melting just a little and Esja's words rung so true to his ears that he couldn't help but be amazed.

He nodded in gratitude and then, Esja smiled. "But I can't allow you to take consorts."

She joked but she was serious with what she had said. Somehow, it made Thorin's lips curl upwards and he too let out a smile.

"Neither will I tolerate any of yours," he joked back and though his sense of humour seemed so foreign to him, he was amused at how easily Esja brought it back.

The dwarf-lady laughed at that and her eyes glinted with mirth and a cheekiness which immediately lifted up much of Thorin's mood.

"Then it is settled." She declared.

"So it is." Thorin agreed and both stared in front, basking in the peace that surrounded them.

And after many months, Thorin felt nice.

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWill Thranduil finally tell Oropher the truth? Will he keep his child? Who will be his child? (Okay that one, I'm sure you've guessed...or have you?) Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own it.
> 
> AN: I'm fast-forwarding here a bit. Thranduil is due in roughly two months. The limelight is a bit less on Thorin and Esja but...then again, the main *main* pairing is Rainion/Thranduil.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who have commented/kudo'd/bookmarked. It means a lot Thank you. :)

A month passed and prior to the last week of it, Erebor was celebrating the marriage between their prince and his beautiful bride.

The marriage itself was done on a much shorter scale but in no way was it trivial. Dwarves of every kingdom were invited—the Blue Mountains, Moria—and each and every one rejoiced in the union of two souls. The dwarves of Erebor rejoiced of having the surety of an heir, and the royal family and a few prying minds rejoiced of severing all ties with the elves. They relieved with a breath of fresh air that their prince chose their own kind. Not a treacherous, infertile woodelf whose very kin was a disgrace.

Thorin was grateful for having a friend who'd not let his mind stray to the remnants of his painful past and Esja expressed her gratitude to have made a special place in Thorin's heart—even if it was not that of love.

But as months progressed, the situation became dire. Orcs increased in packs as much as they had increased in boldness. Warg scouts circled deep woods under the Lonely Mountain. Trees were no more bright and green with foliage.

Spiders nested in the Mirkwood. Giant in size and venomous in might, the woodelves battled them every other day, trying to keep them at bay. The patches of land Oropher had assigned had been claimed by the forest. No crops grew there and the saplings which did grow withered and died very quickly. Animals behaved uncharacteristically. Trees became sicker. The whole forest was shadowed by darkness.

The power of the Necromancer grew and Mirkwood was feeling every ominous pulse of it.

* * *

Thranduil's face twisted as a low pain rumbled in his lower belly. He steadied himself against the desk at his father's study and took deep breaths, trying to keep calm while his father and Rainion spoke about the winter supplies. Fortunately, they were too busy in their discussion to notice and Thranduil was glad for once.

Low voices could be heard coming from behind and every now and then, they would be broken by ruffling sounds of parchment, where most likely either one would be checking the estimates.

His stomach throbbed and he began feeling uncomfortable as beads of sweat lined his brows. He was ten months along and the weight he carried caused his feet to swell enormously. Behind, the voices carried on with their discussion.

"The war seems inevitable. We need ration. Do we have enough to last the winter or is there any surplus?"

"We have surplus, my lord," Rainion's voice floated to Thranduil's ears and he stood up straight, wincing the moment later as he hunched down and supported his weight against both his arms splayed across the desk.

"Should things go worse, we move further north." It was Oropher who spoke next and at his words, Thranduil stifled a groan and partly turned his face towards his right, hoping to catch the conversation better. Halfway through, he gasped out as quietly as he could when he felt a cramp in his stomach, making him clench his eyes shut and lower his head while his breaths came out short and ragged.

"And if we should run out?"

He frowned hard, bringing one arm to clutch his stomach which pained progressively. His knees became weak and each time he would try and breathe in, it would hurt him with a sudden throb. The sweat increased and the light tunics and robes he was wearing were quickly becoming wet.

"Then we have no choice but to ask Lothlórien for ration."

His frown deepened and Thranduil's breath became short and laboured. His stomach was throbbing and his lower regions were aching so badly that made his head spin. Thranduil gripped the edge of his father's chair and let out another gasp. The pain didn't stop. His knuckled became white hot from the sheer pressure he was giving off to the chair. His arm began trembling as his grip became tighter and the pain became harder by the second.

His eyes shot open when he felt a terrible pang and immediately, Thranduil looked around towards the other two elves who were still busy with their meeting. He opened his mouth but all that came out was a gasp as Thranduil hunched over unceremoniously, gripping his belly with both of his hands.

Fear clouded his mind. He had felt no pain like the one he was feeling at that moment. This was not like the stress induced one he had felt before. Nor was it similar to the baby's kicks. This was different.

Immediately, his mind reeled back to all those months when he'd be writhing from the pure agony which sliced him like a white hot knife. He remembered the blood. He remembered what caused such flow of blood and his heart froze over when he remembered the  _agony._

The terror he had long been able to suppress suddenly found no hindrance and flushed towards his heart with a rapid speed. Another cramp and Thranduil grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain grew more and more intense. He opened his mouth yet again and tried calling out to the others but all that escaped was a low jet of air before he clamped it shut as another wild pain tore him up.

Then, something trickled down his legs.

Thranduil stilled. His eyes were dilated and the terror he had been feeling was overturn by pure  _horror_  as his mind simply stopped thinking.

He groaned weakly as another bout of cramps settled in him and before he knew it, he was letting out a sharp gasp through which, his voice ejected a scream of pure fright.

" _Adar_!"

Ruffled noises filled the chamber, followed by heavy steps against the carpet, projecting extreme urgency as they came closer and more frantic.

Soon, he found a pair of strong arms gripping him tight. He was supported against a well built chest and was gently lowered on to the floor as another pair of arms examined him between his leggings.

Moistened eyes fell upon the Silvan elf who glanced worriedly at the king before Thranduil moved his head and settled his gaze on his father.

Oropher was visibly concerned. He glanced between Rainion and his son, his mouth opening a little in surprise, probably at some gesture made by the other.

Thranduil's heart was beating rapidly. Panic filled every cranny of his insides and his tone barely in whispers amidst the pain, he asked, "Like before?"

Oropher bit his lips before he hardened his jaws and kept on staring at the other. Thranduil now faced the one near his legs and practically pleaded, "Is it like before?"

He barely took a breath before another gasp made its way out of his mouth. Thranduil's vision became bleary and he let himself fall back against Oropher, who secured him tightly and didn't complain when Thranduil's vice-like grip was placed on his arm as another cramp radiated from within him.

"What is going on?" His father's voice was vaguely registered but the panic in it didn't go amiss. All the while, Thranduil groaned and gasped, praying for Eru to spare his child from the horrifying fate he had come to face earlier.

He felt fingers retracting from his thighs and despite agony, Thranduil took in Rainion, who seemed utterly confused as he said, "It's not blood, my king. It's water."

Thranduil's gasp was drowned by the sound of tat eliciting from his father.

_Not blood?_

Thranduil felt relief washing over him like a cool rain and his lips cracked into a tiny smile as he fully rested against Oropher. It was not blood. His child was safe.

He frowned immediately as a thought crossed his mind. Just then, his father's hold on him grew tighter as if he too sensed the very same line of thinking.

"What?" Oropher voiced the question. His tone was shaking with anticipation and panic. As for Thranduil, his eyes widened at the realization before he clenched it shut as another loud groan filled the room as the pain became unbearable.

Rainion was heard standing up. "He's in labour," he declared as he shuffled towards the exit.

"What? Now? He shouldn't be for the next two months!"

Which was exactly what Thranduil thought! He wasn't supposed to go into labour so soon! Was his child alright? Would he be safe?

His mind bubbled with question and the more he thought, the more tensed he grew. Very soon, Thranduil felt the warm touch shifting in position before his head felt light and he was lifted off from the floor, being cradled by his father.

The Silvan hastened out and Oropher's steps were quickened as he followed the other.

Thranduil writhed and whimpered, trying to choke back any screams which made their way out of his mouth. His eyes were streaming with tears and his head was feeling heavy and light at the same time.

"Adar, the child," he began weakly but grit his teeth when another cramp wrenched him.

"It is alright, Thranduil. No need to worry,  _ion._ " Oropher soothed before he yelled at those who blocked his passage.

Thranduil shook his head and still tried to get his father to listen. But no matter how many times he tried, Oropher would always end up soothing him as he rushed after Rainion.

The pain was increasing. He began feeling extremely wet in between his thighs and as they passed through the long corridor, Oropher's stride led to a sprint.

"Listen please," Thranduil managed between gasps.

"Move, move! Get out of the way!"

His voice was weakened and in between breaths and gasps, Thranduil finally managed to say, "I lied."

"Do not fret, son. It will be over soon." Oropher seemed to pay no heed and he trudged through.

By then, Thranduil was not lucid. He was gripping his consciousness tight and was paying no mind to his surroundings.

"It's a full elf," he whispered, his head lazily rolling towards the other's chest. Unfortunately, much like him, Oropher too paid no attention to anything but the state of his son. The king was desperately running towards Thranduil's chambers while Rainion went to fetch the healer.

"Get out of the way!" He screamed and seeing the king in such a dishevelled state, the elves moved out of his way, allowing for him to run past them as they looked with curiousness and concern at the limp form of their prince.

And under Oropher's shouts, Thranduil's weak tone was somewhere lost and the secret he had been carrying still remained as one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this was a short chapter but I felt it was a good place to leave it off. You know...I wish Oropher lived. I don't wanna kill him in the battle. :( Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only wish.
> 
> AN: I'll be working on the previous chapter to make it more accurate. But I will post ahead. This chapter takes care of another factor: the necklace. I haven't really put much focus on the actual birthing scene here but this too solves a much asked question. You'll see. Won't be long till The Last Alliance. 
> 
> Thanks to all who have commented/kudo'd/bookmarked~
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 7

Hooves clashed against the muddy ground as the riders tore through the forest in nigh time. They bore two torches lighting up only a small circle of forest in front. Darkness undeterred them. Light  _scared_  them.

Occasionally, the riders looked back over their shoulders. They settled their gaze around and scanned the part that they had just passed, as if to check if they were being trailed or not. Then they would look away and the rider in the middle would clutch his chest as their pace hastened even more.

The rider at the very end suddenly perked up. A frown crossed his face. It soon became smooth with an unreadable expression and his eyes flickered for a while before he looked back. Within seconds, his orbs went small like the tip of a needle and he quickly looked ahead as he felt a cold mist setting within him.

"Hey," he called out at which, the others hushed him and shot him irritated glances. The dwarf at the back shook his head. At that, those ahead of him faltered for a second and continued staring with eyes big, filled with questions which became bigger as the other said something in his native tongue.

Even in the dim light, the trailing dwarf could see their faces going ashen and the silence which fell between them got all the more ghastly as someone swallowed thickly .

The leader of the band ordered something in a hushed tone and as the middlemost dwarf fisted the clutch of his hood, the forest echoed with thumping of hooves which grew faster in tempo and harder in its beat.

From afar, shadow passed over the moon, slowly sliding over it before moonbeams again seeped into the forest. The west sky became lighter and a soft glow of orange spread over it which flickered for moments before the sky got covered in darkness yet again.

* * *

 

Thranduil was writhing in pain. Tears flowing freely from his cheeks, the elf used his hands as vices, clutching on to both his father and lover, gripping them tight each time a contraction ripped him apart.

Hours into the labour, he cursed and shouted at anyone who caught his attention and finally when the healer said he was ready, he screamed out in response, beginning to push with each surge of pain, grinding the other elves' hands in the process.

"Not much longer now," he heard Rainion's voice to the left and he glared up at him dangerously, opening his mouth to retort back before he formed them to a loop and squeezed his eyes shut while breathing out jets of air rapidly with another onslaught of contraction.

Sweat drizzled down from his skin, his hair plastered to his forehead and fat tears of pain rolled down his now blotchy cheeks. Thranduil was tired, he was hurting and he wept in impatience and agony.

At that point, he wanted nothing more than to get this over with. And considering how he refused to let the others go, his father and Rainion too wished for the same.

Finally, the healer announced, "I can see him crowning."

To Thranduil, those were the sweetest words one could _ever_ hear. A cry broke through his throat and he pushed hard, feeling his entire energy leaving him and grinding his bones along the way.

Moments seemed like hours and the pain showed no sign of reducing. Thranduil's breaths were heavy and hot from the exertion that he felt. His voice was hoarse from screaming and no matter how many times he was dabbed with a cool water soaked cloth, he still felt like being crushed under the sheer pressure which never seemed to stop.

"One more push," he heard.

With the last reserves of his strength, he braced himself and pushed hard. Through his clenched teeth, another screech made its way out, soon transforming into a cry that seemed to fill the entire room.

Eventually, the scream died down and Thranduil fell back heavily on the pillows, panting loudly as his lungs desperately needed air. He felt someone wiping his brows with a cool towel and for a while he indulged in the soothing effect it produced.

Suddenly, his breath hitched just as his eyes flew open with a panic before he swatted away the hand and abruptly sat up. He felt a pair of hands steadying him and two voices, telling him to lie down. Thranduil shrugged away the touches and paid no attention to the concerns of his father and lover as wild eyes searched all over the room for something which was too precious for him to lose.

At that moment, his heart was shadowed with panic and fear and in his mind, only one thought came up in chants.

He shot a glance over to the elves beside his sides and the way his lips trembled against his pale face shouted out the unspoken question.

His eyes were huge and tearful. Fret darkened the vibrant orbs of blue and the more Thranduil thought about it, further the dread gripped his heart tight, causing it to skip many beats.

Then it happened.

The silence which covered the room was suddenly disturbed with a shrill wail.

For a while, Thranduil didn't react. He kept his gaze darting between both of the elves as the beating of his heart was still rapid and fearful.

However, when pure relief flooded over the faces of Oropher and Rainion, Thranduil finally let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and with much prayer to the Valar, he cast his gaze in front of him where the healer was busy finishing off with the necessities.

After the baby was finished being washed, she smiled at the three elves and gingerly handed the precious cloth-covered bundle in the arms of the awaiting father.

Thranduil was scared at first. His boy was so tiny and so delicate with the pink flesh and little features. Just like a glass doll!

But when he was guided to hold his baby, his fears subsided away and his eyes were filled with wonder as he took in the delicate form in his hands. The healer then stepped back and with a gentle smile at the other two elves, she declared, "Congratulations my lord. It's a boy."

He heard the others' breath hitch and Rainion congratulating his king on their heir. However all those seemed so trivial at that very moment and they died down from Thranduil's ears as his world  _solely_  focused upon his son.

When the baby became calm, there was pure joy sparkling in Thranduil's eyes and he looked up at his companion, gleaming with pride. Rainion smiled, his eyes too brimming with tears.

"He is healthy but since he arrived early, we must keep a close eye on him for a few more months," the healer added and when her words were understood, she left the room, giving the family their privacy.

Thranduil caressed the little blond head gently and held his child close. A smile broke across his lips as he sighed and closed his lids, thanking the Valar for the little miracle they had performed. Years of sadness, empty trials and bitter tears now all concentrated on the tiny bundle squirming in his arms.

At last, he was a father. He had a child.

Thranduil's face fell slightly when the elfling was taken in the arms of a wet nurse. The disappointment soon vanished into marvel as he whispered blissfully, " _Our_ son...Rainion, we have a gorgeous son."

With that, he closed his eyes again and as the day's exhaustion took hold of him with full force, Thranduil soon lulled into a much deserved sleep.

He missed the Silvan's loving look transforming into that of restraint as Oropher's calm eyes became huge with lapped surprise. He failed to see how shocked his father was as the king's eyes darted between Rainion and himself while his lips trembled with unvoiced demands.

* * *

 

Across the darkness, a dwarf ran with scurry feet. He didn't look back from where flashes of orange lit up the trees momentarily. However just as the light disappeared, the forest grew even darker. Ghostly screams bounced off from the trees. Clangs of swords drowned away by the horrifying screams and screeches, making the dwarf cringe and clutch his chest each time they entered his ears.

His eyes were wide and terrified. He dared not look neither back nor down. His sole focus was to stare ahead and run like he had never run before. In the process, the dwarf stumbled and almost nearly fell. He quickly recovered himself each time and as he did, the grip on his chest became tighter as he ran for his dear life.

Suddenly, his ears caught a wild growl and he whirled around in pure horror. All the while he kept his feet kept going, never having the galls to stop before turning sharply to face the front. However this time, he couldn't keep his balance as he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his chest.

He groaned painfully and rested his eyes on the floor of mottled leaves to gather himself. The dizziness he felt disappeared the moment he caught something right in front of him. Something that was not supposed to be there at all! Immediately he frowned, realizing that it was probably a fate worse than what his fellow riders had suffered. As seconds passed, his face cracked with helplessness and failure when it became clear that there was no escape for him.

His breaths came out in shudders and he slowly raised his gaze. When they fell upon the being in front of him, he clutched his chest out of pure instincts. His eyes widened massively before he squeezed them shut and grit his teeth. His cheeks were wet with flowing tears as a cold and harsh dread took over his whole form.

Curling his fist into tight balls, he let out a whimper, fear distorting his face even more. His lips moved and instead of a tone, all that came out was a quivered rasp which grew sharper with the imminent danger.

The familiar sound of unsheathing scratched the uncomfortable stillness and the dwarf prayed fervently as fat tears wetted his face.

Lips began moving fast. The rasp grew shriller. His prayer was left unfinished when his rasp stopped abruptly, followed by a sharp intake of air. The fist gripping his chest shook a little and after a few seconds, his fingers slowly unfurled. His body went limp and the life in his eyes quickly withered away as the dwarf lay in a pool of blood.

Another sound of sheathing followed and once more the night was draped in quietness, speaking nothing but eeriness and foreboding as the fallen dwarves lay on the forest floor, smeared with blood and carnage.

But they fulfilled their task. One final time, they obeyed their king.

* * *

 

The doors to the study burst open and Thorin strode in like a storm, nostrils flaring and face reddened with urgency. An advisor followed after him, muttering that the king was asked not to be disturbed but Thorin promptly ignored him as he walked up to the main desk.

"We are doomed," he said without wasting any time.

The grimness in his voice drew Thrór's attention. He sat up straight and with a quiver in his tone, asked, "What do you mean?"

At that, Thorin's face grew graver. He looked at the other darkly and with a tone matching his demeanour, he said, "The necklace is nowhere to be found. It is hidden well. But all of our warriors were killed. All but one! He barely escaped with his life from the orcs."

"The orcs?" Thrór repeated, his eyes flashing with worry which only increased as Thorin nodded.

"They were returning when an orc pack attacked them. The survivor managed to stay hidden. He said, the orcs were killed as well by an army of elves. The war is starting. But Grandfather, they elves...they noticed how few dwarves were there. How lightly armed they were. They _know_ it is us."

A slow frown appeared on the dwarf king's temple which soon drilled furrows. The panic which flashed on his expressions earlier washed away quickly. Hopelessness seeped in.

Finally, the king looked away from the other and stared blankly on his desk.

"Then we are doomed," he said in a hushed tone which spoke of how lost he felt at that moment.

Like Thorin, Thrór too placed his hopes on the fact that the Necromancer was on the top of the elves' priorities. They hoped that with time, this would be forgotten. However, it was merely wishful thinking.

After the war, they'd come. Erebor wouldn't be spared. Thorin knew his family wouldn't be spared.

Their fate was sealed and it'd only be by the grace of a miracle that the elves would now spare them. "Mahal save us."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, they didn't name the baby yet but it will serve me better for what I have planned. If you have any doubt, feel free to ask me.:) Please review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot and the OMC.
> 
> AN: Utterly utterly sorry for going off the radar like that. Needed to take care of some things. But I am back now!
> 
> Not much long now. I'm now wrapping this baby up. So it's not gonna be Thorinduil after all...though, I'm not so sure about the saddest ending imaginable. So I guess, that's a good thing? ^^;
> 
> Really, thank you all for being patient with this and for supporting it. :)

Oropher eyed the Silvan suspiciously for a while. The initial shock wearing off fast, all that was left in him was surprise and bafflement and as Thranduil slept peacefully, the silence around them felt all the more uncomfortable.

Finally, Oropher cleared his throat and gestured for the other to follow him. Rainion nodded and obliged, stopping shortly just outside the doorway.

Oropher scrunched up his face. A million of possible ways came up in his mind as he contemplated the best way to interrogate. He felt Rainion's defensive yet curious gaze on him the entire time which made him very uneasy. When none of the methods felt pleasing, Oropher rolled his eyes and shook his head as he opted for the most preferred approach.

"Are you wedded to my son?"

The directness with which he asked took Rainion by complete surprise. The younger elf stared incredulously and blinked a few times before his face grew long and white and he had to avert his eyes to the floor.

Oropher's expressions modified accordingly and he let out a quiet sigh, rolling his eyes yet again as surprise crept on his own face along with a form of distress.

"You are not wedded," he said, more like a confirmation to him, while a frown appeared between his brows. "You are not wedded and yet Thranduil has an elf child. Do you  _know_ how it will look?"

He couldn't conceal his frustration in the end. He had hissed, making Rainion jump lightly. He cursed himself mentally, snuck a look into the room to find Thranduil still sleeping and then brought his tone down, "The kingdom knows he was to be married to that dwarf. They saw how he grieved. Do you  _know_ what they'll start to call him now that a child has been sired by another  _elf_? _Another elf_!"

Rainion was heard drawing a breath and when he was confident enough to answer—even by a miniscule amount—he spoke, "Sire, he—I wish I could tell you the circumstances but I was..." He bit his lips and at that, Oropher raised a brow waiting for the explanation to come.

After a few moments, Rainion spoke again, "He was insistent."

Green eyes narrowed and his face was set to stone-coldness as Oropher let his intense gaze examine the elf paling before him.

"Insistent." He repeated in a stern manner, not believing for one second that Thranduil was desperate enough.

Then suddenly, something flashed in his mind. He started flipping through the memories which were still so vivid. The memories of his son—the vacant look in his eyes, the hopelessness in his tone and the shattered expression when he came to know he couldn't bear a child.

His heart felt cold and chilled with an understanding hitting him in full force that made the father in him miserable for his son.

He once feared of Thranduil doing something irrational in his state of depression. It appeared as if that irrationality had already been done.

"Oh Valar, I see no light to this darkness," he muttered to himself, covering his eyes in his palm. He was clueless in how to manage his people. He could not possibly fathom what he'd tell his people and how they'd react once they knew the truth. He had managed to keep Thranduil hidden with the excuse of him recovering from his grief. What excuse could he possibly provide for Thranduil to be engaged with another elf  _and_ with a child?

Oropher's eyes vaguely registered that Rainion was beginning to speak something. However, both eves were startled when the frantic voice of a guard called out to his king.

"My lord," the panic was clear in his eyes and as if that wasn't enough to snap Oropher out of his stupor, the warrior's quivering tone made sure of it.

"What is it?" Oropher asked, managing to suppress a familiar foreboding feeling deep within him. The guard didn't respond immediately. He gasped out at which Oropher made a gesture with his face. "Speak out!" He admonished, making the guard all the more frantic.

Eventually, despite his ashen features, the guard stood in attention and with absolute directness said, "The Noldor intercepted a band of dwarves."

At that, Oropher straightened himself and frowned. Rainion too perked up and was focusing his gaze upon the other. As the guard was about to elaborate further, the elven king raised a hand to stop him before he faced the other way.

"Thranduil is waking up," he said noticing the protest in Rainion's eyes at which, he gave the other a stern and meaningful look. "He requires your assistance."

Rainion let the deep denial be shown on his expressions, before he went placid realized it was better for him to leave and without another word, he bowed, leaving the king to attend to his matter.

Once they were alone, Oropher again turned his attention to the guard and asked, "What about them? Where were they caught and when?"

"Last night, Sire. The trees have spoken," he explained. Pausing a brief moment, the elf mentally formed the words carefully and went on, "They were caught en route to Erebor. They had the necklace."

Oropher's frown dissolved away and in its place, he was smeared with another bout of surprise.

"W-what?"

He couldn't believe what his ears had caught.

Erebor? Erebor was responsible for Thingol's death?

The frost in his chest became colder. As he let out a painful gasp while darting his eyes unfocusedly onto the floor, Oropher found his mind juggling with the reality which crashed on to the previous one.

But the guard wasn't done.

He inhaled sharply and Oropher felt himself growing pale with dread and anxiety at what was left to be said.

The elf had a solemn expression about him. It was grim and yet, within the graveness, there was a hint of fire burning in his eyes—the remnants of his rage—which made Oropher all the more nervous.

Finally, the words tumbled out, "The necklace is lost."

And Oropher felt the world collapsing all around him.

* * *

Thranduil smiled up at his lover and extended an arm, indicating other to take his place beside him on the bed.

Rainion smiled back and taking his hand, he kneeled down and pressed a small kiss on Thranduil's forehead. The elven prince smiled warmly and while Rainion was pulling apart, Thranduil reached up, palmed the other's face, pulled him down and pressed their lips together.

He heard a small surprised sound escaping from the Silvan but undeterred, Thranduil tipped his head and deepened their kiss.

Rainion placed a hand tentatively on Thranduil's chest and pulled apart.

"Wait, your father is outside," he warned.

Thranduil rolled his eyes and pulled him down again as he whispered softly into his ears, "This is  _not_ outside,  _meleth_."

With that, he let out a small chuckle and gently fluttered kisses on Rainion's mouth. He frowned a moment later when he felt the warmth of a palm on his chest. When it began pushing him slightly, Thranduil portrayed a look of irritation and looked up inquisitively.

His expression faltered, however, when one look at Rainion showed the seriousness and a hint of worry he was bearing.

"What ails you,  _meleth_?" Thranduil asked, flickering his eyes in between the other's, trying to deduce the kind of distress Rainion had.

On being asked, Rainion's brows creased and he looked at a spot just over Thranduil's head, as if he was mentally preparing the words that would sound proper.

Thranduil frowned even more at the awkward pause. He reached up and cupped the other's cheeks tightly. Tangling his fingers with the Silvan's brown locks, he pulled him close so that his lover could now see him and not some wall while he was expected to answer.

"Tell me. What ails you?" Thranduil asked with persistence. His eyes were intense and were burning with a strong flame that discouraged any form of distraction.

Finally Rainion sighed and Thranduil's gaze softened at that. He let the other go and his eyes followed the movement of the Silvan as his lover took a seat beside his bed, patiently waiting for a response.

"Your father..." Rainion replied closing his eyes.

The strange pauses in which he fell made Thranduil's furrow grew from concern to confusion. He was about to prod the other but stopped when he got a non verbal response from the other. Rainion slowly opened his eyelids and looked straight into Thranduil's eyes.

Gone was the apprehension. No trace of the fret was now found which previously clouded the other's gaze. Instead of hesitation, worry was speckled in the ors of chocolate brown and to exaggerate the distress even more, Rainion's face—now long and desiccated of mirth—was completely illegible, making Thranduil's heart to beat with a cold and dampened rhythm.

"He heard what you said during your labour," the Silvan continued in a tone which promised no amount of relief.

At that, the elf prince straightened up and viewed the other while trying to recall what he had said during the birth of his babe.

It was a futile attempt for Thranduil was barely conscious and that too in a state where it was just wrong to assume him acting rationally.

"What  _did_  I say?" Thranduil finally asked. By then, his heart was racing rampantly and it was gripped with such an ill feeling that made him run the worst possible questions in his mind.

Rainion inhaled deeply, letting out a shuddered breath and twiddling his fingers. After what felt like forever, Thranduil's eyes intently stares at the other as he began speaking something—

"Adar!"

-before he shot a glance at the form of his father bolting into his room.

Rainion snapped his mouth close and turned himself, abruptly standing up in presence of the king, who came straight to stand on the opposite side of Thranduil's bed.

"What is the matter?" Thranduil enquired. Worry was sieving inside of him and one look at Oropher cemented the concern that had been growing inside his chest.

Oropher threw a glare at him and Thranduil found keeping himself from backing up to the headboard with a desperate amount of will power. His father's eyes were flaring and his face held such a despondence that Thranduil's eyes automatically widened with fear, frozen upon his father.

"The babe is not of dwarf blood. You lied." Oropher wasted no time in coming to his point. He narrowed his eyes at his son who gulped in hopes of moistening his rapidly parching throat.

"Adar, I—"

He tried to answer but his lips trembled. The beating in his heart increased and the cold swirl— which began churning when he saw Rainion's face— now whirled in full force.

Oropher's hand stopped him from commenting anything else. Instead, Thranduil now faced intense pair of orbs which held extreme anger directed towards him. He glanced at his lover beside him. He had hoped Rainion's face would provide him some form of support. But seeing as how frightened he was, Thranduil realized that the support was tantamount to none at all. Helplessly, he gazed at Oropher all the while maintaining his breathing so that he could at least ease his tension by a bit.

Oopher was breathing at his own pace. After a few moments, he lowered his hand and his face too became less reddened. It was then that Thranduil actually found his voice while he composed himself. Still, he didn't speak. He didn't  _dare_.

"How could you lie to me, Thranduil?" It was Oropher who broke the silence. "Why did you keep this from your Adar?"

As he looked at Thranduil, the elven prince could clearly see the hurt and disappointment flashing in those orbs of green—the very same which he witnessed after his lie.

Only this time, it wasn't betrayal that peeped out of them...it was expectation. Rather, it was the  _unfulfilled_  form of expectation and it was what pierced Thranduil the most.

He wanted to look away but guilt had frozen him in place. He wanted to look anywhere but at the upset face of Oropher and yet, he found himself unable to.

His father broke the eye contact first. His eyes landed on the floor, searching it for something before bringing his gaze up again. His eyes were hardened and instead of a father's dilemma, they were reflecting a king's conflict. And as he spoke, his tone echoed with every bit of tact that would be expectant of a powerful king, "We've found the kin-slayers."

For a while, Thranduil didn't remember to breathe. A natural reflex such as a blink too became forgotten as he stared with wide eyes of disbelief.

"What?" His words came out barely as bewilderment filled his mind. He exchanged a look with the other before focusing his gaze on the king himself. From what he had seen, Rainion too had went absolutely still, eyes big as saucers and his lower jaw threatening to touch the floor.

Oropher nodded wordlessly. Steeling his face even more, he went on, "It wasn't the dwarves of Belegost, although it was made to be seem so with  _almost_  perfectprecision and cleverness."

By then, Thranduil's heart was short of stopping to beat. He was full of trepidation and suddenly, he found an unknown dread taking hold of him with its vice-like claws.

"It was Erebor."

At that, Thranduil's mind went completely numb. He couldn't think anything. He couldn't even  _feel._  All of a sudden, he found his world—that world which he  _thought_  he knew—changing dramatically and he was left with nothing but indecisions and uncertainty.

He simply didn't know anymore.

A gasp was heard coming from behind, followed by a trembling hand being gingerly placed on his shoulder. But his body jerked away from the touch. Thranduil didn't want to be comforted. He just wanted to make sense of it all.

Suddenly, his eyes flared with anger and his hands fell heavily on both sides of him from his lap.

Thorin? It was Thorin?

His mind was racing backwards to the time when they met again in the forest. Scenes passed through his eyes like a gust of wind while he mentally tried connecting the threads which tied it all. He saw it as a whole again—Thorin, their kiss, their gentle touch, Tharnduil's confession of his pregnancy, Thorin's rejection—everything streamed through like a rapid set of images.

Finally, the images slowed down and became still at one point, focusing on the night when Thorin was almost being attacked by them. He remembered vividly how shocked the other was on seeing him. But that wasn't all.

Thorin had seemed frantic. He had seemed  _scared._

Just then, his mind sparked in an understanding and his eyes widened when disgust covered his heart.

Thorin warned them to turn back. In fact, there was no reason for Thorin to be in that forest at all! It was something which Thranduil didn't question, surprisingly. However, now that he did, he found himself growing all the more disgusted.

A sneer crossed his face and he glared down on to his sheets, clenching them tightly with a slight tremble of rage channelling through his body.

He was such a fool to pay no heed to his father's initial warnings! He never knew that race was so greedy! They rejected his love for want of a child. They rejected his child for want of their own progeny and they rejected their morality for want of something which was never rightfully theirs!

He was disgusted with that race. He had enough of their greed. He  _hated_ them. More so, he hated himself for falling in love with one of them.

Another thought suddenly crossed him.

Then what would become of his child? Would he be taken away? Would Oropher cast him out and pretend that he didn't even exist?

Franticness etched his face and his heart began beating so hard that it threatened to come out of his chest. He lifted his eyes, fearfully looking at Rainion, who looked back with nothing but empathy and a trace of something else. After a moment, he brought his eyes to land on Oropher which grew bigger with his escalating fears.

The warm touch was back on his shoulders but this time, Thranduil didn't pull away.

He prayed to every deity he knew, pleading them with as much desperation as a father would have knowing that his child was going to be stripped away from him. He prayed to change Oropher's mind. He prayed for a way out. If his father took his babe away from him, Thranduil  _knew_ that he'd not come out of this alive.

Perhaps the Gods heard him for Oropher's stern gaze mellowed out and even though his tone was kept tact and professional, it didn't have the razor sharp edge of a diplomat.

The king quickly looked over at the third elf in the chamber and gave him a nod.

"It must be done," he said. "You must take him to a willing family."

Thranduil's heart panged and he shook his head.

"No, Adar. Please," he pleaded. Feeling his shoulder being squeezed, he looked up at his lover, his eyes bright with unshed tears and a hope of miracle laced about them.

Rainion sighed and replied with an apology in his voice, "I haven't found any, my lord."

At that, Thranduil's eyes gleamed and as the hope in him increased, he again focused back on his father who now looked displeased.

"What do you mean? Have you even  _looked_?" The king hissed at which, Rainion flinched causing Thranduil to wince as well.

"Sire, I didn't know how to explain where I got this child. They know I am yet to be wedded and that I am childless!" The Silvan responded with insistence and against all odds, it worked on Oropher. The king's anger simmered down and he was in deep thought.

Thranduil went on praying. He was now begging the Valar to let him keep his new world. He offered his palm and pleaded that he be granted one little part of him which was his entire world.

A forlorn pause stretched the room, engulfing it with a dire tenseness. None spoke and none moved. For them, time had stood still and if either of them so much as blinked, it would apparently break the delicate thread which was binding them all.

At last, Oropher declared, "Then have him under the healer's care for one year. The kingdom is busy in preparation for war which looms over us. No one will pay much attention to who has sired the child. After the war, we shall see."

It was indescribable what Thranduil felt at that moment. His heart was still unsteady but now, it was no longer frightened. Relief washed over him in waves and he thanked the Valar for hearing his cries.

He could keep his child. It was only one year...one agonizing year but there was a possibility that he could reunite with his child after that. Oropher wasn't cold hearted. He would not snatch away Thranduil's happiness, no matter how stoic he wanted himself to be seen. He too was a father. He'd understand, on that Thranduil had full faith. His child would know who his father was and Thranduil could see him every day! He would spend his entire day with him and that way, the child would know that his Ada loved him dearly!

He didn't want to think how he could be involved with his child at the moment. Those were things still to be considered and pondered. However, for the moment, he was truly happy.

He flashed a brilliant smile towards his lover, who smiled back, and then at his father with nothing but gratitude in his gaze.

Oropher nodded and exited the room. As he was walking towards the door, he reminded them one last time, "Find a proper husband for you."

Thranduil smiled and nodded back. He was euphoric. So much in fact that he failed to catch the hint that his father had thrown towards him.

He failed to catch what Rainion did. And if he wasn't so elated at that point, then Thranduil would see the hurt flashing in the Silvan's eyes who looked longingly at the one he had given his heart to and the one with whom he expected to build a quiet little family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so maybe I do have an idea of a somewhat less angsty ending. At the very least, someone will come out somewhat happy from this whole mess. I still don't want to kill Oropher but you can't change history! Not here, at least! *sighs* Please review.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot and the OCs.
> 
> Warning: Minor Character death.
> 
> AN: So it starts. As I have said, I'll be keeping most of the battle in the background except for some key events. So...uh...I think I'll have a bit of timeskip in the later chapters. About *this* one, I have fastforwarded to winter.

Winter had finally reached Middle Earth and the forests of Erebor were caressed with the touch of snow and ice. Months had passed since their marriage and within these last few months, much had changed between Thorin and Esja. Their growing friendship for one, which strengthened over time and the growing love for Fíli and Kíli who were more their children than Dís'.

However, it was not personal bliss that had soared high. It was the darkness also which swallowed everything in its abysmal shadow. The Necromancer was at the peak of his powers and the One Ring—as it was called—showed no mercy in claiming one's sanity and bending him to its will.

Erebor had endured threats from the elvendom. However, with the growing danger of Arda, they seemed to have shifted their focus on the Necromancer, giving Erebor to breathe a little in relief. But even if they were isolated from the rumours of a forging alliance, they were not safe. They would  _never_  be.

Despite of that, Esja was insistent on enjoying the quiet morning after days of turbulence. No matter how Thorin decided against it, he eventually gave in when he was dragged down by his wife, sister and nephews. Now that they were exploring the forest of the foothills of the Lonely Mountain, Thorin walked behind them with a look which clearly showed his displeasure at the idea.

"Oh come now! Don't be a lug," Dís admonished, tugging Thorin's arms as she walked side by side with her brother.

"I am not being one," Thorin grumbled back, keeping a close eye on Esja and the two dwarflings who were hardly containing their excitement. Looking up to his sister, he admitted, "I am worried. It is not the best of times to be enjoying the outdoor. We have two enemies. The elves, the Necromancer and most likely Belegost as well if they hear about the little game we tried playing."

Dís' eyes softened and she took a while regarding her brother with utmost sincerity. As he took in her face, Thorin somehow found it soothing...like the feeling he got whenever his late mother would comfort him during his nights of fright.

"Whatever happens, Mahal does it for the best," she finally spoke, her tone soft and gentle and her smile assuring as well as pleasing. "And we are not far away. Our ponies are nearby. The guards are nearby. You needn't worry."

At her words, a smile crossed Thorin's lips and he nodded in understanding. Dís' smile widened in return and she reached out giving her brother a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder which lessened the stiffness Thorin had about him.

Suddenly, a piercing scream cut the air, snapping their attention from each other to the spot before them. Thorin's breath hitched when he found his wife and the children missing from their eyes. Dís' hold on his shoulder suddenly became burdened and under its weight, his whole frame grew stiff again as a cold and dark hand kept his legs firmly planted on to the ground.

The screams of children came next. Desperate wails filling the air and drowning out the sound of unnatural growls and cackling laughter.

He suddenly jolted into a run and headed for the direction of those screams. Dís followed closely, as did the guards with weapons drawn, while calling out the names of her sons in urgency. They soon revered off the main track. The cries grew louder and Thorin felt a glimmer of hope that they were approaching fast to where the others were. Cutting through bushes and shrubs, he finally stopped to one part of the forest and his heart beat with tremendous relief as he saw Fíli and Kíli sitting sprawled across the forest floor. Their eyes were streaming with tears and as their gaze landed upon their uncle, the fear in their wails lessened by a very small amount.

He began approaching them but Dís ran past him, scooping Fíli in her arms and holding Kíli close. She was trembling in shock and fear much like himself but unlike him, she didn't try hard to keep her quivers in control.

Thorin opened his arms and motioned for Kíli, who wobbled towards him. When he came into his arms, Throin gave him a tight hug and scooped him up at which, Kíli hugged him tightly. The children secure, Thorin next turned his attention to his wife.

His face paled when he realized that only Fili and Kíli were the ones in that area.

"Where's your aunt?" He asked Kíli softly.

Dread began nesting in his heart and when Kíli looked up at him with watery eyes and a face cracking with sadness, Thorin felt his heart had stopped beating altogether. Without a second thought, he felt his legs move on their own and making his way through another patch of bushes, Thorin paused with terrified eyes at the sight which greeted him.

Dís joined him soon after, followed by the few number of guards they had brought. All of them stopped midway and paled at what they saw before their eyes.

On the floor lay Esja. Blood was gushing out from a stab wound to her chest, rendered by what looked like an orc blade and there was a vicious bite to her jugular vein from which thick, dark blood flowed, mingling with the crimson pool beneath her.

"NO!"

Thorin's eyes were watering fast. The fear which he accumulated was swiftly turning into a cold and hard reality. His mind was boggled with a sense of failure and soon another sense hit him hard, causing his heart to ache miserably. It was very similar to when he was torn away from Thranduil, very similar to when he faced a different elf back in the woods, same as when he lost his father to one of his conquests. It was what he had hoped to escape. Loss.

"NO!" He kneeled down beside his wife, clutching Kíli close to his chest and keeping the little one from viewing the horrid sight before him. Fíli was sniffling. Dís must've done it to him also.

There was no hope. His mind told him that saving her now would be futile. Yet he tried. He tried to see if she was breathing; if there was even a faint trace of heaving from her chest. He brought a palm near her nostrils, hoping against hope that a small jet of air would hit him. But none did.

Desperation covered the dwarf prince. He felt her pulse with fingers, pressing the against her neck as if she was too thickly padded. When no pulsation was felt, Thorin let his hand drop beside him and stare ahead in a cold stupor.

He barely registered an arm supporting him up and he vaguely recalled the journey back to their palace. All he knew was that Esja was dead. And his world became very small.

* * *

 

Rainion burst into the chamber where Thranduil was playing with the son, the healer standing nearby. The hard sound of the door opening made the occupants look up at him with questions in their eyes. The suddenness made the youngest prince cry and at that, Thranduil drew him close and whispered soft words to him, shooting a demanding glance at the Silvan.

Rainion's eyes held no apology. Instead, they were steeled with seriousness and the way his jaws were clenched spoke masses of the urgency his stiff posture had indicated.

"We are at war," the Silvan declared. He didn't miss the sharp intake of air from his prince and lover. He didn't ignore blue eyes extending till they reached his hairline, the rosy cheeks losing their colour and Thranduil's beautiful face drying up with absolute terror. He ignored none of it. However, Thranduil needed to know.

"The High king has summoned. Men have answered. King Oropher has gathered up the army," The more he explained, more placid Thranduil became. His mouth agape, the initial waves of shock that he had quickly made way for concern and dread as he dreadfully looked up to his lover.

Rainion wanted nothing more than to comfort the prince then and there. He wanted to hold him and kiss him and say everything would be alright. That his fears were unnecessary. He wanted to lie. Yet he found himself unable to do so.

"He marches tonight," he added with a gentle firmness, hiding the way his heart wrenched at the sight of the prince tightening his hold on his son and staring at the floor with nothing but a ghastly eeriness in his eyes.

Thranduil placed a firm kiss on the child's forehead. Then without another word, he stood up and headed for the door.

A frown appeared on Rainion's temples. When the other was about to walk past him, he acted promptly by grabbing Thranduil's upper arm, causing the prince to stop.

"Where are you going?" He asked, "I am under orders to keep you away from the throne room!"

Thranduil didn't turn. He jerked off his shoulder, hoping to slide the other's hand off. Rainion frowned even more and tightened his grip as he said again, "The  _king_ has ordered me. And you are needed  _here_!"

Thranduil caught the reference of his son and it was that which made him finally half turn at the other.

"I am a prince as well. My duties demand me to be with the king," he replied but in a surprisingly cold voice.

Rainion gasped at those words. He never expected someone—above all  _Thranduil—_ to speak as if he was a detached father! The little elfling was a boon to the new parent and Rainion knew just how uncharacteristic this was coming from Thranduil.

"You are a  _father_  first!" He hissed, not bothering about the healer who had given them their room.

Suddenly, Thranduil faced him and as Rainion was about to rebuke him for his actions, he felt words failing to leave his mouth. Rainion paused midway and his expression frozen in place when he noticed the other's face.

Thranduil's eyes were glistening with fear and unshed tears, despondency was smearing his face and he was short of cracking as he shot a glance over Rainion's shoulders and to their son.

"My father will never succumb under Gil-galad. He is too proud for his own good," he spoke in whispers. "Our people will fall if there is no one to control Adar's pride. I  _must_ go." Their son was looking back at both of them. He was confused and scared, much like his Ada and Thranduil's 'best friend'.

"You will look after the kingdom."

"What?" It was a heresy to even consider that! It was so wrong and out of protocol. But most of all, it had such a  _finality_ and Rainion didn't want to think of their future without the one he loved.

Thranduil was stoic.

"You have responsibly gathered food for our people. You will take care of them with just as much responsibility. I have seen you work as has Adar. My father has faith in you.  _I_ have faith in you."

It was enough to make Rainion choke with tears. But it was what Thranduil said next which completely shattered his insides.

" _Meleth_ , should I not...make it, I want you to know I love you. With all my heart. And if by Valar's grace we return, I'd like us to wed with  _or_  without my father's consent. But if we do not," Rainion gasped and looked in the direction of the other. Thranduil has such solemnity in his eyes. Beneath it sat the moving sadness which came off in his breathless tone, "Raise him well. Tell him how much his Ada loves him. How much his  _father_ loves him. Tell Orophin he will always be loved and watched."

With that, he pressed a kiss on his lover's cheeks and slowly headed for the throne room. Rainion was left behind—stunned and speechless—while he moved over to comfort the child who began sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so those orcs and wargs were enroute to war. They killed Esja because they're evil and it is fun for them. They are very bad. Okayyy she needed to be killed because I'd have no idea how to merge this with the events of 'The Hobbit'. *cough*cheap trick*cough* I am wrapping this story up. So if it seems too abrupt, tell me and I'll try my best to fix it.
> 
> And, surprise! The kid isn't Legolas.
> 
> And as for Thranduil, it is not right or likely for him to go to war. But as he said, Oropher is a stubborn dolt. Because of that, his people would be in danger. Thranduil is needed to pacify the situation. And we know how that turned out to be, right? Please review and lemme know what you think so far!
> 
> Now for a wee bit of spoilers: guys, sad ending averted! Really~~ I mean it will be pretty sad and angsty for quite a few chapters but this fic literally now has a proper ending! Whoo!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot and the OCs.
> 
> AN: This will raise many questions. I'll try and explain them in the end notes.
> 
> Thank you everyone who've commented/bookmarked/kudo'd. Your words are total encouragement. :D

The rituals had been simple. Thorin refused to make it elaborate enough for people to forget the real purpose of their gathering. He wanted it to be about  _her_ and not the grandeur of Erebor. Thrór agreed. He couldn't spare much from the royal treasury due to the ongoing war. They had not taken part but they too needed to sustain themselves.

Thousands of people came and expressed their condolences. Many wept for the loss of their princess and many others for the loss of potential heirs. Some even approached Thorin to offer words of console but the dwarf prince remained stoic and unnervingly quiet throughout the whole ceremony. He was by the side of his nephews and sister who made it clear that they wouldn't leave him no matter what. Dís would occasionally rub his arms in hopes of soothing him. Fíli and Kíli would break into silent tears each time they recounted their near-death experience and how Esja pushed them just in time into the bushes.

Esja's parents had seen their world crumble. They mourned the death of their only beloved daughter. And as for Thorin, he had lost the closest friend he ever had. His world was burning.

* * *

His mother was gently combing through his hair. Her hands brushing against his skull, Orophin closed his eyes as the air hit where his mother's fingers carded through.

The door opened and he looked up just as his Nana had stopped with her action. Blue eyes widened with mirth as another elf peeped into their room. He smiled brightly and extended his arms at the other who smiled back and approached him, then scooping him up.

"Missed me, little one?" His father asked, pinching his cheeks playfully.

Orophin nodded and a giggle escaped him when his chest was tickled. They were now heading towards his mother who patiently waited for Orophin to join her. When he was settled in her arms, she asked quietly, "How does it fare?"

His uncle shook his head, suddenly losing his joy.

"They should be near Dagorlad by now. I...I pray they all return home," said the elf giving off a tiny sympathetic smile as Orophin looked at him with curious eyes.

He was not understanding. Six years of his life—six years of what he could remember—he recalled Rainion ordering everyone not to lay waste. He said food was scarce, even though winter was gone. Orophin was not allowed to play outside. He was not allowed to venture much. Partly because of the little problem he had which made him vulnerable to rumours behind his back. Though mostly, it was because of this dire situation they were in.

His mother had even scolded him for wandering off into the woods. He heard them speaking about 'war'. He had been hearing them for so many years. Yet, he did not know what this 'war' was. They said he was too young to understand.

"And what about the king and prince?" His mother asked anxiously. She was supposed to heal the ones who went to 'war'. That was her task but she said that she had Orophin to care for first.

Rainion's eyes suddenly darkened. He sighed wistfully and looked entirely at Orophin with a strangeness before he blinked a few times.

"The Valar will bless them," he muttered, shifting his gaze once more over the elfling.

Orophin's curiosity was extremely piqued. Question bordered his big eyes as he looked up and silently asked what he'd been asking all along.

Rainion seemed to have gathered his query. He approached the elfling and knelt down beside his bed.

"You will meet them. They have seen you when you were very little. And Thranduil is eager to return home as soon as possible. He misses you the most," he answered, his palm gently brushing through his golden strands.

Rainion had that strange look again. His gaze lingered on the youngest elf longer than necessary and it was this look which confused Orophin very much.

Suddenly, his mother pulled him close to her chest. Rainion's breath hitched slightly before he quickly stood up, blinking a great many times and rubbing his eyes just once with three of his fingers.

Orophin kept on staring. He was confused but it wasn't new to him. It was like every other day. Whenever Rainion would mention this 'Thranduil', his mother would interrupt him or Rainion would stop with that queerness in his eyes. Whoever this Thranduil was, Orophin gathered he was not liked by his naneth. She almist  _feared_ him. He wondered why.

At that moment, they were talking with themselves and it was clear that Orophin wasn't meant to hear any of it. Not that he was interested either. They always spoke about the people, food and 'war' again, their king who had gone to 'war', their prince— or Thranduil— who he heard was as beautiful as the legendary queen Melian. But what they never spoke about was his father...

"W-war is wh-what A-d-d...Ad-ar did?"

Their talking stopped and both of them looked at him with wide eyes. Rainion was the one who was disturbed the most. He quickly snapped his focus on the other and said something in a hushed tone. Even though Orophin was out of range, from the way Rainion frowned and snarled he could easily guess that this was a question which he was never to ask. For this caused rifts between his mother and his uncle.

He could vaguely make out a few words like 'haven't told' and 'wrong'.

His mother was gesturing towards him with her hand before she pointed a finger and jabbed the air with it as her harsh whispers sliced the air. Rainion bristled at that and he shook his head vehemently. He had a palm on his chest which he then brought to show Orophin before he dropped them and clenched into fists.

It wasn't long before they both stopped and Oriphin's big eyes grew even bigger when both looked wearily at him for quite some time before Rainion left.

"Thranduil loves you, little one." He said while he was heading for the door. "He loves you more than you can ever imagine."

His mother went and closed the door. She stood touching the panel for a few moments before she flipped her back at it and faced Orophin, sighing deeply before she crumbled down on to the floor.

Orophin was taken aback. He quickly plopped down from the bed using his stepping stool and quickly rushed over to her.

"Nan-na I'm ss-s-orry," he shook her gently, gasping when he saw tears in her eyes. Suddenly, she reached up and pulled him close, refusing to let him go as soft kisses were fluttered all over his face.

"No it is my fault, my son." His mother finally replied, her tone quiet and shy. "I have not kept my word. It is my fault. But oh I love you so much!"

Orophin shook his head questioningly. What had she meant? It was not her fault that she couldn't heal his father. She said he was gravely injured in battle. Orophin did not even remember him. He was very young.

He shook his head again. This time, his eyes were more resolute and more assuring. He didn't speak more often due to his stutter but his gestures were enough to convey what he thought. And his mother had heard him.

"I love you," she murmured and tightened her hold on him, oblivious to the thousands of queries dancing in her son's eyes. Once again he was made known how much Thranduil loved him. Once again he had seen her mother's mood ruined at the mention of his name.

And yet again, Orophin was left utterly perplexed.

* * *

It was a wasteland. Before them, the vast marsh plain stretched as far as the eye could see. It hit the ragged and dark rocks of Mount Doom which remained atop, smirking with an evil glee, challenging the men and elves to cause it any harm.

Oropher drew in a breath. Sharp eyes lingered still on the great land, searching for any sign of activity from the opposite end. Gil-galad had warned them not to be rash. He ordered them to wait for his signal because apparently, he  _feared_  that Oropher or any other— as a matter of fact— were too inexperienced in war.

A snarl crossed his lips. Gil-galad wanted to command those who marched  _independently_. The Noldor High king thought that he'd command those who didn't fall under his jurisdiction or even race!

_That vain fool!_

His thoughts were broken by Amdír, who placed a hand on his shoulder. Oropher turned his attention and found the king of Lórien reflecting the same feeling from his eyes as he voiced his opinion, "An ambush would've been perfect. The orcs are  _not_  flanked. They are  _not_  ready. Gil-galad is wasting  _time._ "

Oropher's eyes sparkled with approval.

"Does he not always waste time?" He hissed, shooting a brief glance at his son who was eyeing them with great concern. Turning towards Amdír, he continued with the same edge in his voice, "He expects us to follow his every step. But we are commanders as well. Capable in our own rights and rulers of our own kingdoms! We should  _not_  have to submit to a Noldo snob!"

"We answered his call. We joined the alliance. But now, it is our turn to take advantage of a perfect opportunity instead of standing by and awaiting an event like a child waiting for his parent's approval!" Amdír's tone was rough as well. The hate for the Noldor was evident in his glinting eyes and as he looked at Oropher, the king of Mirkwood felt a surge of energy running within him.

"Precisely!" He replied, "We  _must_  charge."

Amdír smiled proudly and as he was about to give orders to his own troops, he was rudely interjected by another voice, making him to turn sharply and coming face to face with the young prince.

"What did you say?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You can't charge in! It is a brash act in itself and we are not in the position to take heavy hits!" Thranduil repeated, this time with more firmness as he looked at Oropher. "We are lightly armed, Adar. We cannot risk the lives of our troops. We best be awaiting his command."

Much like Amdír, Oropher's eyes flared with anger at his son's words.

" _You_ —of all people—cannot possibly even  _suggest_ that!" Oropher hissed at Thranduil, who stopped in his speech but stared stubbornly at the other two elves.

"But why not let them break the orcs barriers? We can march  _then_!" Thranduil was insistent and had it been any other time, Oropher would've thought about it. However, at that very moment, his pride and hatred for Noldor arrogance overshadowed his judgement. Amdír's similar sentiments were influencing him and fuelling his irrationality. He shoved Thranduil back and faced his fellow commander.

"We march."

Amdír's eyes twinkled with a rush of adrenaline. He nodded with his full consent and hurried to order his troops. Oropher turned towards that of his own and gained their attention immediately as he began unsheathing his sword.

The elves prepared their own weapons. Silence titillated the entire area as every pair of eyes were keen on their king whose eyes gleamed brightly with a fire as he regarded each and every one of them.

A heavy hand tugged Oropher's arm and the king sharply looked at their owner who had a tight expression about his face.

"Please reconsider," his son pleaded, worry lacing every portion of his face. "I would much rather keep our men alive than criticising the Noldor's stupidity!"

Oropher narrowed his eyes and jerked off Thranduil's hands. He ignored the shock that made way to Thranduil and promptly turned towards his troops.

They were ready. They awaited his orders. They trusted him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Thranduil falling back into his position and getting ready by drawing out his own weapon. He was not pleased, Oropher guessed. But he was proud to see that his son was not going to leave them be.

Amdír was heard shouting orders in the background. With no further delay, Oropher quickly unsheathed the rest of his sword and raised it up high in the air.

"We march," he repeated— slowly at first— which readied Thranduil and a few of his men in front.

Then he raised his voice and addressed every one of his soldiers who let out a boastful shout, soon joined by the calls of the warriors of Lórien.

"WE MARCH!"

The shouts doubled and with the order, they charged ahead in full force, lead by their commander and kings. Adrenaline flowing through their bodies, they surged ahead, shaking the ground beneath them.

Gil-galad's words were unheeded. When the news would have reached the High-king, he would be horrified. And History would record what a folly it was to act with such brazenness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I was going to make Legolas the child. But the War lasted for so many years (weeks or days...yeah), which implied that he and Thranduil weren't even close. But that's most likely not the case. So I needed one person who fit the puzzle. Orophin seemed like a good choice ('cause of his name matching with Oropher and him being so aloof and cold in LotR, even at Legolas. His kin.)
> 
> Orophin has a stuttering problem and because of this and his secret parentage, he is kept sheltered by the healer. She practically raised him and Orophin thinks of her as his mother. He doesn't remember Thranduil because he was very young when he went to war. I have made him to stutter for a specific reason. Well cause he doesn't say much in LotR. It just spurred. Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot and the OCs.
> 
> AN: Thranduil returns.

Thranduil rode ahead of his flank. His eyes were hollow and scars of the mind were still afresh, giving him cold sweats at nights. Even after months of travelling, Thranduil as well as his troops could not find solace. Nor did they forget the trauma which would forever haunt them.

The war had ended. The Alliance won. But the price they had to pay was extremely demanding. Only a third of their army remained and right before his eyes, the young prince had seen the King of Mirkwood getting slain in the hands of those filths he shamed to recall as kin. He had seen Amdír meet his fate and Gil-galad meeting his untimely death. He was left alone

He was a king now. He had his duties. He had his lover and his son...he needed to get back to them. He needed to be held close. He had to kiss his son’s cheeks and tell him how much he loved him, missed him. He wanted to wed Rainion.

He had lost his pillar. He didn’t want to lose his entire world.

 

 

“Impossible! I can’t do it, grandfather.” Thorin protested loudly. Thrór had a disdainful look on his face and even though there were traces of sympathy for his loss, Thorin found himself to be standing in front of the king. _Not_ his guardian.

His eyes flickered over to Dís who was wearily shifting her gaze between the two males. Eventually, her focus landed upon Thorin where it stayed for a moment longer before being fixed upon the oldest of them all.

His heart panged and he met his grandfather’s eyes for one more time.

“I can’t...please ask me none which I cannot fulfil,” came his response in a tone so weary and tired that it almost brought tears to his sister’s eyes.

“It is regretful,” Thrór spoke with an unnatural calmness and that all but worsened the ache Thorin felt in his heart. “But we do require an heir. I would not be asking this of you had it not been so urgent.”

Thorin said nothing. His eyes spoke what his lips could not. Hurt spilling from them, Thorin clenched them shut and drew in a jagged breath.

“I have no wish to marry. No more,” he said, shaking his head. The pressure was building in his eyes and Thorin knew that if he opened it, he could no longer conceal the tears which were already gathering.

A choked sob was heard coming from behind. It was Dís. Thorin didn’t have to look at her to know the soft sound which only his sister could emit. Thrór remained quiet. As Thorin placed his eyes on the older dwarf, he easily saw the internal dilemma that his grandfather was facing even though he tried keeping a stoic face. Thorin understood his reasons. But he was not ready. He doubted now he would ever be. It wasn’t his fate to sire children. Mahal had pointed it out to him two times already. He dared not endanger the life of another.

Sniffing softly, he regarded the other for a while. They needed an heir after Thorin. That was it. He shot a glance at his sister who was curiously staring back at him. She was quiet but her eyes gave off the love and support which he tremendously needed.

Suddenly, a thought flew past his mind. Dís seemed to have caught what he was thinking and gave a certain nod of approval, which fuelled Thorin’s idea into a plan. He tore his eyes from his sister and placed them on the other who was keenly awaiting his reply.

“You shall have an heir, grandfather. Not one but two,” His voice was firmer and full of seriousness. The likes of which his face was giving off.

At that, Thrór’s unreadable expression faltered slightly. He frowned a little and asked, “How is it so?”

In response, Thorin drew in a deep breath and as he released it, his face became schooled into composure.

With one more glance at his sister, he paused taking in another breath. Thrór’s curiosity was radiating from him and as it reached Thorin, the prince could feel every fibre of his body reacting to the intensity with which it was given off.

“My nephews are very dear to me. I love them as I’d love my own sons,” finally, he spoke. “I name Fíli my heir.”

A gasp automatically escaped from Dís’ mouth. She had anticipated Thorin’s intentions but she hadn’t considered it to be a reality until her brother declared it so. Thrór too was surprised. His eyes were big and round, accentuated more by his bushy eyebrows which threatened to reach past his forehead.

But Thorin had decided.

“And Kíli will be next in line, should anything unmentionable— Mahal forbid— happen to either of us.”

Thrór’s eyes were still bewildered as the king adjusted himself to the idea. While he waited for the king’s approval, Thorin breathed slowly, trying his best not to get upset due to the fresh wound he had received.

At last, Thrór lowered his brows. His eyes shrank slowly and steadily to normalcy. His face embraced the gentleness of acceptance as he gave a curt nod towards his grandson.

It was then that Thorin let out a long held breath. His eyes shined with gratitude and he nodded back. Despite everything, his grandfather had respected his wishes and let the king in him do the same as well. It was then he understood that not all was lost. Not everything he had was swept away.

For that, Thorin was more than content. He was grateful.

 

 

Elves rushed past him and frenzied outside their cavern. Many hustled to and fro, almost running into each other as they retrieved baskets of flower before heading towards the courtyard. Orophin was playing in the corridors and as he was right in their path, he was ushered back and front by elders who needed him out of their way and unharmed.

With wide blue eyes, the elfling waddled off towards the cavern gates and right out into the courtyard, where his eyes grew even bigger and rounder.

The whole realm had gathered. Each and every elf stood there absolutely still while their keen eyes were kept locked on the tracks. They carried baskets of flowers and banners. Some even prayed to the queen of the Valar, some chanted an ancient hymn for the blessing of their realm and most held their breaths as they waited in an anticipatory silence.

Suddenly, Orophin heard murmurs coming from the very front of the crowd. They touched the rest of them and in a convectional manner made their way towards the very back. Just then, faint sounds of hooves could be heard. One horse...two horses...a flank!

The murmurs soon turned into excited whispers. The silence that had stretched was now disturbed by hushed breathy tones and chuckles of joy. The chants had grown in sound. 

Orophin craned his neck, hoping to see something. However, even as he was standing on his toes, the heights of the older elves were far too blocking for him to set eyes on _anything_. Thus he stood properly and keenly listened to each and every sound that his little elf ears could pick up.

The elves burst into a shout of delight and began waving their banners when the sound of hooves became nearer. Flower petals showered from above. The entire Woodland Realm was echoing with songs of joy and blessing. Banners fluttered in the air with much enthusiasm and all around there was only one chant. “Hail the king!”

Orophin nudged the others and pushed himself forward into the crowd. His heart was pacing in such an enigmatic joy that he could barely contain himself from running on to the tracks to see for himself what the ruckus was about. From what he gathered, the king was back. He would finally meet the royal family of whom he had heard so much about. He was too excited to think how much his mother and Rainion would worry. He was here to see the king. He would finally see Thranduil! He was so eager.

The grounds were trembling. The sound of hooves grew even louder, indicating that these expectant elves were very close.

Then he saw.

 A myriad of horses galloping towards the cavern. Headed by a tall and regal being, his hair of molten gold swishing in the air and his face holding such a divinity which demanded immediate reverence.

Was this Oropher?

Behind him, several others rode. Banners in their hands—exactly alike to what Orophin saw all around him— were fluttering as air passed through them. All of them were clad in armour and they looked so different and so out of reach.

However, the screams of joy were dying down. The horses were coming to a halt. The songs which spoke about hope and victory quietened down from trembling voices before they stopped altogether. All about, there was a strange quietness. Gloomy. Sad.

Slowly, the elf at the front descended down his horse. He took off his helmet and Orophin gasped out when he saw nothing but a hollow sadness in those beautiful blue eyes.

Those eyes which were so much like his own.

He approached towards the centre and was met with utter silence as each and every pair of eyes waited upon him.

Moments went by and he stood without a word. Finally, he looked up and Orophin knew that something went terribly wrong.

“King Oropher has passed,” said this elf. Gasps tore the air with their shrillness. Once more there were murmurs. But these weren’t of excitement. These were of fear.

The elf raised an arm and promptly, everyone fell quiet. When there was absolute stillness, the elf spoke again in a voice which was calm yet filled with loss, “I will uphold the duties of my father.”

It took a beat of the heart for his words to sink in. Slowly, faint whispers began again. Whispers of acceptance and hope.

Chants fell from lips. Chants which asked for Oropher’s soul to find peace in Mandos, chants which showered blessings on this elf who had reached his adulthood not too long ago.

New hymns got composed on hopeful lips. With gradual increase in loudness, these precise words were at the tip of each tongue.

“Long live King Oropher. Hail King Thranduil.”

An involuntary gasp escaped Orophin’s lips. He stared up at the elf whose name he heard from his childhood.

So _this_ was Thranduil. The one whom his Nana didn’t like; the one whom his father praised...and the one who ignored the celebration around him and was now searching _desperately_ for something.

 

 

His heart was heavy but in spite of the sadness that had engulfed him, there was yet a gleam of hope which warmed Thranduil as he eagerly waited to be reunited with his lover and his son.

His eyes landed on each and every brown and red haired elf but the hope which rose in him deflated the moment he realized none of them were whom he was searching for.

From afar, a figure was rushing towards him, pushing and jabbing the crowd as he approached. Thranduil’s eyes shone suddenly and a tiny smile crossed his lips.

The elf paused and let out a relieved smile. Thranduil’s own had widened and was so bright that it could blind any eyes who dared to set evil gazes.

“Rainion.”

 He was given no time to adjust as a pair of strong hands grabbed him tightly and pulled him close. Thranduil buried his face into the other’s brown silken strands and sighed out in a long-withheld relief.

As he hugged back, he whispered softly into the other’s ears, “I want to be wedded to you. I refuse to lose anyone I love.”

Under him, Rainion’s frame became a little stiff but Thranduil was surrounded by too much overwhelming emotions to attribute it to anything other than surprise and joy.

He pulled apart and eagerly looked around, keeping his eyes close to the ground.

“Thranduil,” Rainion called out to him but Thranduil hushed him with a half-hearted raise of his hand. A quiet sob almost made past his lips when he finally sought out a pair of blue doe eyes looking curiously up at him.

He gasped and blinked a few times to ward off his tears. Before he knew it, Thranduil was on his knees. He opened his arms and nodded at the little elfling, encouraging him to come closer.

By the Valar he had grown so much!

Orophin was extremely shy. He blushed and was looking down on his feet before he gingerly made his way towards his father.

He was so cute! He looked just like Rainion—as Thranduil _knew_ he would—and his eyes were so big and inquisitive that it made the elder elf almost laugh at the silliness.

“Come here, _tithen pen_ ,” he smiled lovingly when Orophin was finally at arms’ length. Thranduil impatiently pulled him into a tight embrace, almost chucking at the light squeak the elfling gave off as his face was showered by kisses.

They pulled apart and Thranduil took his time to adore his child. He was so perfect and so innocent. His eyes flickered between the young one’s orbs of big blue and Thranduil cupped his chubby cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs before he pulled Orophin close to his chest once more.

His fingers tangled in soft golden hair. Another hand rubbed circles on his back before travelling upwards to brush the away tangles which made Orophin flinch a little.

His parental instincts took over and Thranduil buried his nose into the other’s head, further tightening his embrace as if it was dear life.

And Orophin _was_. His son _was_ his life.

He had missed him for so many years. Thranduil vowed to make it up to his son.

With a soft sniffle, he finally loosened the embrace and smiled at his son.

Orophin was still amused and surprised. Perhaps because of this unfamiliar course of the day, Thranduil realized. Perhaps because he wasn’t around much and that was why Orophin was so shy around him.

_But not for long._

Lovingly, Thranduil tucked a piece of gold tress behind Orophin’s ears and said gently, tipping his chin, “Do you remember who I am, _henig_?”

At that, Orophin’s eyes sparkled and he looked down with a tinge of red on his cheeks. Thranduil’s smile grew and he felt  warmth spreading in his heart. Orophin hesitantly looked up and wordlessly nodded.

“Who am I?” Thranduil prompted him, resisting himself from coddling the child with kisses right then and there. He was anxious and was waiting to hear one word from the other’s lips. When Orophin opened his mouth, he found himself holding his breath.

“Th-thra-anndu-il,” Orophin finally spoke, choking out the words.

Thranduil frowned a little. He wasn’t aware that his son would have a stuttering problem. However, he shrugged it off immediately and once more basked in his parental feelings.

Stutters were not a major problem. They were easy to fix.

“Yes, very good.” He encouraged, smiling brightly once more as he planted a soft kiss on the child’s temples. Orophin bit his lips and stifled a shy smile, which made Thranduil swoon. He squeezed the little nose gently and asked, “And do you know what I am to you?”

He heard Rainion calling him out and yet again, he waved his arms to stop speaking. For now, his attention was on his son. He did not want to tear his eyes from his child.

 Orophin nodded. Again, Thranduil sucked in a breath as the other took his time to reply, “T-the king.”

“Yes.” Thranduil replied but felt his smile faltering. This was not what he wanted to hear. He wanted to be called ‘Ada’ and he _craved_ to hear it from his child’s voice.

Suddenly, a cool breeze was touching his heart. He didn’t know why but a strange feeling was overshadowing him. His anticipation was turning into anxiety and Thranduil did not like one bit of the sensations which were teasing his heart.

Rainion was interrupting but this time, Thranduil didn’t even register his voice, he didn’t even gesture him to stop. He was focusing hard on Orophin. His eyes were full with expectation and once again when his son began to speak something, Thranduil felt his mouth suddenly going parch.

“W-where...” Orophin paused, searching out Rainion. Thranduil moved his head, trying to stay in the elfling’s gaze but he was not who Orophin wanted to see.

Finally catching Rainion’s eyes, his son asked sincerely, “W-where is Na-nna?”

At that, Thranduil’s face paled and his eyes reflected the shock and anguish which warred to take its place. He helplessly tried to catch his son’s gaze. He tried to tell him that _he_ was the one who gave birth to Orophin. That _he_ was the one who was his true parent.

But Orophin saw him as the king. Nothing more.

“W-where is Na-nna?” He asked again and Thranduil closed his eyes.

He gasped out as his heart shattered to pieces. He realized, that maybe he was too distant from his son than he could ever fathom. His son—his only child—did not even know how much Thranduil loved him and how much he wanted to be his father.

Now that he was seeking out this supposed _mother_ of his, Thranduil knew that Orophin would perhaps _never_ come to know.

Anger bubbled inside his chest. He felt loathing this person who had dared to snatch his son away from him. He felt himself hating Rainion for keeping him in the dark.

But most of all, he felt loathing _himself_ for letting his son slip away from him like the lives of many of his unborn children.

Though there was comfort in that. Thranduil was unwell. He wasn’t fit to bear then. Thranduil had an _excuse._

This time was different. He wove dreams and future about their little family. He wondered how he would make up for the lost years and how he would pamper and love and raise his son. And he would love him back. He would love his Ada and would tell him he much he was missed.

His mask broke. He pulled Orophin to an embrace which was truly one-sided at best. Orophin was still enquiring about his mother and Rainion was assuring him of fetching her. Tears started falling from his eyes. The pain in his heart doubled when he kissed Orophin’s cheeks and his son became stiff with awkwardness.

Slowly, Thranduil released their embrace. He was limp and exhausted as his body picked itself up from the ground. His face reflected the sadness that Thranduil felt as he helplessly saw a woman approaching.

It didn’t take him long to realize it was the healer, who agreed to look after his child— _his_ child—and promised to keep a distance that only was _his_ right.

She paused when she saw the now king and father. Thranduil was looking scandalously at her. Questions burned in his eyes as she was hit with queries of ‘Why’.

Orophin’s voice snapped them out of their stupors. He hugged his ‘mother’ furiously and raised his arms, asking her to pick him up.

Thranduil’s heart throbbed as he saw that woman scooping his child up in her arms and being nuzzled by him. That which was solely _Thranduil’s_ right. 

A hand squeezed him on one of his shoulders prompting Thranduil to stand. As he did, he felt the full weight of the other’s arm as it slid down to the small of his back and out of pure instinct and the need of a strong support, Thranduil allowed his body to move towards the frame that stood behind his. He rested his head on Rainion’s chest and for a moment looked at his lover. He could see the sympathy burning in rainion’s eyes. He could see the shame and the guilt...but most of all, Thranduil could also see pain. Pain that he too was feeling at that moment.

He felt jealous at her. Anger rushed in him as he kept his indignant glare fixed upon her form. But Thranduil knew it was futile.

Orophin was lost. And this time Thranduil had no excuse.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so why I made Orophin stutter? In Lord of the Rings, he barely speaks. Haldir does all the talking ad yeah, okay. He is not as well versed in the common tongue as they say, but what if Orophin had some other reasons to keep quiet? Now I am pretty sure I gave away what I am planning to do but that’s okay. Because this is turning into an alternate history kind of thing. Please review.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot and the OCs.
> 
> AN: Okay, so after AGES, I finally am back. I am so sorry for such a long delay. I have no excuses. None. Life caught up with me. But here it is- chapter 12. Hope you like it. :)
> 
> Thank you to all who have responded so brilliantly!
> 
> I must thank [Laureli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Laureli/pseuds/Laureli) for her suggestion on improving some of the text. With her permission, I have used the corrections. Now this makes a LOT more sense. :) Thanks Laureli~~

Thranduil stormed past every single elf. Curious eyes followed him and questions and queries lingered on every surprised face. However, none dared to stop their new king who had made it quite clear that he was weary from travel and that he required rest.

Once he was safely inside his chambers, he finally let out the breath which he was holding. He placed a heavy hand against a wall and heaved a few times. A pressure had welled up within his throat and chest and it was rendering a stinging feeling in his eyes which Thranduil _knew_ that he couldn’t withhold for much longer.

He bit his trembling lips and glared down on to the floor.

He felt so betrayed. Finally, the walls were falling down around him. Finally, he was beginning to realize that he no longer had a pillar to lean against. He had lost his father and mentor, he had lost most of his kinsmen, he had already lost Thorin and now, he had lost the last semblance of his own...his son.

A sob choked out of his throat and Thranduil bit his lips further, trying to contain the strangled cry which was soon to follow. His whole form was trembling in anger while the thoughts of the healer’s treachery ran through his mind.

She had taken his son away from him. He asked her to look after him. Not _raise_ him! He asked her—no, begged her—to let Orophin know that his Ada would soon be back. Who knows what lies she fed his innocent little heart!

His eyes narrowed dangerously when a name flashed in his mind.

His nails scratched against the wall surface, tightening into a tight fist that shook with a raging vigour.

Rainion knew. Rainion knew what Thranduil wanted! Why didn’t he intervene?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door closing. Quickly Thranduil spun around and when the person came to his full view, his eyes narrowed further as a wild sneer crossed his lips.

“Why am I graced with such a visit?” He asked sarcastically, looking at Rainion with deep anger. “Or perhaps it is too trivial a matter to send me word. Who cares if there has been new developments, is it not so?”

“Thranduil—“ Rainion began to defend himself but was cut short when Thranduil raised his arm.

The Sinda’s glower reflected all the tremendous rage he was feeling inside. His icy cool eyes suddenly flared up with the hurt of a wounded being. And while Rainion stood with a mock apology about him, Thranduil’s annoyance increased even more.

“No there is nothing to be ashamed of. We were at war. Petty things of this nature would have distracted us. Your judgement is appalling, Rainion. It is a wonder how you have kept the realm under control!” 

Rainion flinched at the tone which Thranduil was using. Even though there was a mocking sense of security, the gaze that was burning him proved how enraged the infuriated father was. He sighed and looked up. Empathy was washing his every feature and it only made Thranduil’s anger blaze like oil in fire.

Before the Silvan could even speak, Thranduil closed the distance between them and hissed with spite, “He’s my son. Rainion. My son! My son does not know who his father is. He calls that...that elleth his mother. He calls someone ‘mother’ who did not have to bear him for one year! Who did not feel his beating heart, who had absolutely nothing to do with giving him birth! What folly has she been feeding him?”

“Folly? There is no folly, Thranduil. No one force-fed him any lore!” Rainion insisted and was imploring Thranduil to believe him. But the elf king was too wound up to calm down.

At Rainion’s words, Thranduil’s eyes widened with defiance and he glared at the other. Rainion winced but he did not deter. He too met Thranduil—levelling his gaze—and that alone made Thranduil immensely livid.

“Then why does he not recognize me?” Thranduil asked, suppressing a sob when the query itself panged his heart. He saw Rainion deflating a little and so, he prodded, “Why does he look at me as if I am a mere stranger? Why doesn’t he greet his Ada who has come back to him? Why did he seek _her_ out?”

“It has been six years, Thranduil. You can’t expect him to remember someone whom he saw _six years ago!”_

“He knows YOU!” Thranduil hissed, not bothering to lower his tone. “You were here to tell him! Why did you NOT?”

“It would not have worked, Thranduil. Do you think I have not tried?” Rainion reasoned but the other elf was impossible to understand anything at that point.

“Not nearly enough!”Another scoff escaped him as Thranduil glared daggers towards the Silvan. Once more he opened his mouth and before he could control himself, the words which were somewhere deep inside his heart fell with great abruptness, “Why would you anyway when it comes to _my_ child?”

He had not realized the impact of his statement. Nor did Thranduil notice the shock which befell the other, stunning him into absolute silence as he stared with disbelieving eyes.

“He is the only one I have left,” Thranduil went on, oblivious to the pain which was now flashing on Rainion’s face, “And he too was snatched away. I can never forgive such an act. I can never forgive _you._ Why did you have to betray my trust?”

“Because you were _away_!”

Thranduil gasped out when Rainion’s sudden raise of voice startled him. His face was pale and lips were apart, trembling just a little to indicate just how shocked he became at the unexpected nature of those words.

Rainion too looked shaken. He too hadn’t expected himself to be uttering what he did. However, now that the words left his mouth, there was no point in turning back.

“You were not here. You missed our son’s childhood and he needed a mother’s care.” Slowly, the anger which he felt came to surface and as Rainion went on, Thranduil looked scandalized while his eyes grew bigger with shock. “What you had planned and hoped for would _never_ work. People would deduce easily when you became pregnant with him and they knew well enough who spends time with you.”

Thranduil’s heart was felt like being stabbed multiple times. His gaze was full with horror.

Though, Rainion chose to ignore. He went on in a voice which lashed the wound he felt, “In case you haven’t noticed, _our_ son is _illegitimate_ in society’s eyes! And he has a weakness. Do you know the amount of ridicule he’d have to face if he came out to be the king’s son?”

“It wouldn’t matter. Stutters can be fixed.” He tried weakly but Rainion’s snarl made his face contort with more anguish.

“Not for him. We have _tried_.”

“No one would dare speak ill of him,” Thranduil rasped out but the fire which had scorched him was now swiftly extinguishing, leaving him to feel so cold and helpless. He did not find his words to be of much strength. Somewhere along, he started realizing the harsh reality which was now waking him up.

“But they will of his parents,” Rainion’s eyes were pitiable. It was clear how hard he was restraining himself when clearly he wanted to break down hard like Thranduil. “A commoner and an unwed prince...do you truly want him to be the object of mockery?”

Thranduil let out a shuddered breath before clamping his lips tight. His eyes were shining like liquid pearls as tears carefully danced in them. The void in his heart grew bigger every moment and the dull throb he felt in his chest was numbing him in entirety.

“It is for the best,” said Rainion with exhaustion. No matter how hard he had tried, he could never fully embrace this line of thought.

Silence clouded over the two of them, lasting for what it seemed like hours. Neither spoke nor moved. It was as if a pair of strong arms was gripping them in place, forbidding them to so much as blink.

At last, Thranduil’s soft words carded through the tense air, “I had a duty towards my people.”

It was more of assuring himself than justifying his actions. At that, Rainion sucked in a breath and stared empathetically at Thranduil.

“You had a duty towards your son,” he whispered after a while, lowering his gaze and turning to face the door.

His reply had rudely stung Thranduil. He flinched and looked shamefully on to the floor, unable to say anything.

Before Rainion left, he looked over his shoulders and said one more thing softly but with so much gravity, “And he is _my_ son as well.”

Thranduil’s eyes shot open and he jerked his head up to look at Rainion’s retreating form. It was then that he realized what he had done. He had completely written off Rainion’s parentage. In his own grief, he dismissed the hurt which he felt as well.

He tried calling him back. He tried to apologize; to say how truly insensitive he was. But Thranduil was late. Rainion was already gone and as the door closed behind him, Thranduil was once more left alone with nothing but his thoughts.

Long he had been standing, simply frozen in place. His eyes were distracted much like his mind which cursed his misfortune.

Suddenly, Thranduil straightened up. His eyes became more focused and determination slowly started creeping in within him.

He refused to lose it all. He refused to lose Orophin to the clutches of the healer. He would tell him the truth and once Orophin knew, he would love his Ada once again. His son would come back to him.

He had sacrificed so many for the happiness of others. This time he refused to let go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback? Yes please. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: 'The Hobbit' is the sole property of J.R.R Tolkien and New Line Cinema. I am only borrowing the characters. Well...not all, Rainion is mine. :3
> 
> AN: So the final arc. As I have said, I will now try and veer towards the events of the books. Well, *try* being the keyword here. By now it is definitely not ending with Thorinduil and I know you guys know that. But as far as priorities go, they have changed. For Thranduil, for Rainion, everybody!

Greenwood was slowly healing. The darkness which had shrouded it was starting to fade away with the vanquishing of the dark powers and one of the small patches of land which Oropher had planned as ration was also starting to develop small sprouts. It was a miracle in its own rights. While the other land was acclaimed by the wild, this one managed to sprout when all others thought it to be a waste of time. It would require ample care but the new Elven king was hopeful.

Gentle pitter-patter of feet made Thranduil look up from his desk. Settling down a decree he had been reading with much frustration, he carefully got up to the door of his study and with keen eyes, scanned the corridors.

Blue orbs sparkled with joy when they caught a glimpse of gold and green running past the guards, who got out of his way and looked at him with a very dismal expression.

Thranduil tipped his head slightly, looking at the scene with nothing but warmth adorning his eyes. His heart was brewing with the parental instinct he so long held for the elfling whom he could never fully tell how much he was Thranduil's own. And each time the child would look up at him with nothing but awe and reverence, Thranduil would feel a stab in his heart.

He didn't want to see himself as this authority figure- aloof, out of reach and as distant as stars. He wanted to see love and affection in his child's eyes- the very same which he held for Orophin each time Thranduil would set gaze on him.

Out of nowhere, he was hit by a force which clashed against his knees, causing him to quickly draw his attention back to the present.

Thranduil tumbled a few steps backwards, so that he could regain his balance and it was then that he noticed that he was no longer at the door to his study to begin with. Sometime during his thoughts, his legs carried him in the way of the energetic child. As luck would have it, Orophin was not looking where he was running playfully and when he  _did_ turn, it was a split second before he collided against the elven king.

Orophin quickly gathered himself and looked up at Thranduil, his eyes big and blue and welling up with tears as he fearfully awaited the king's rebuke.

A guard was fast approaching and from the scoff on his face, he seemed like mere seconds away from rebuking the child himself. As a result, Orophin quickly jerked away from Thranduil's knees as if he had touched a hot piece of iron. However, before he could put a great distance between him and the king, Thranduil quickly acted on reflex and pulled the child close while raised another arm and motioned for the guard not to advance any further.

A protective urge surged all over him and even if the guard and the child looked shaken up by his behaviour, Thranduil didn't seem to care. Instead he pulled Orophin even closer and glared at the guard coldly as he spoke, "Leave him be, He is but a child."

"B-but Your Highness," the guard looked scandalized. His eyes were big as saucers and the way his jaw dropped, it threatened to touch the floor.

"I'm sure I'll be unharmed by a small elfling," said Thranduil rolling his eyes. "Now leave us."

The guard bowed and paused a moment. He hesitated seemingly and relayed his vision between the king and the child with weary eyes before finally, he bowed again and left to attend his former position.

Once alone, Thranduil kneeled down in front of the elfling, who regarded him with wide, round eyes. Fear shone clearly from them as young eyes took him in like a wonder that was so rarely seen.

Thranduil's heart skipped a beat when Orophin reached up and brought a chubby finger very close to the Elf king's cheeks. His blue eyes were sparkling with amusement and his mouth hung ajar with nothing but forms of bewilderment.

At that, the corners of Thranduil's mouth twitched a little, curling gently into a very soft smile—warm and loving—which every parent beheld. With extreme caution, he reached up and placed nimble fingers on the soft baby cheeks, caressing them gently as if they were very fragile and just a breath would break them.

Orophin's eyes followed Thranduil's every move with utmost curiosity and when his cheeks were being caressed, his already wide eyes extended to an unforeseeable amount, going past his forehead. It was evident that he never in his dreams had imagined himself to be fondled by the king of the Woodlad Realm! And by the way he was eying Thranduil, the older elf could easily see that he was viewed as a faraway dream of some sort.

A sharp sting wrenched his heart at the very thought of that. He had never wanted to be a vision— _not_  in the eyes of his own son. He wanted to be the father to whom Orophin would come and share secrets, who would soothe him whenever the little one fell and hurt himself, tell him stories and tales of the past, one who would love him unconditionally and would get to show the affection he held without any paying attention to the rumours which might circulate.

However, the glum thoughts were quickly shoved away at the back of his mind as he peered into a surprised pair of eyes. Thranduil blinked and kept his tears at bay, his hands cupping Orophin's cheeks lovingly while caressing them with his thumbs.

"Have you not got any classes to attend to, little one?" He asked softly, unable to suppress a smile when Orophin looked at him with pure innocence.

Orophin became alert suddenly when he was addressed. It took him for a moment to register the question but when he did, he immediately shook his head, eagerly trying to convince Thranduil that he did not in fact skipped his lesson.

Thranduil tipped his head with amusement at his son's antics. Tapping Orophin's chin lightly, he let out a small chuckle and said, "But I had the understanding that mornings were best meant for learning. Do you not like to learn?"

Orophin pouted his lips while a dismal look crossed him for the briefest of moments.

Thranduil hadn't missed the way his son's lips twitched slightly at the mention of the dreaded word for all children. However, when the look disappeared within a blink of an eye, Thranduil had no reservation of pride about Orophin's parentage.

After moments of hesitation, Orophin looked straight into his father's eyes and thought for a while, after which, he firmly shook his head, eliciting a light amused laughter from the other.

Thranduil so wished to kiss his son's chubby cheeks. The elfling seemed to be adorable so much that his parental instincts were unable to ignore the innocence which his son pulled off quite well. With a gentle sigh, he brought his hands up and cupped Orophin' cheeks. The action made his son's eyes row bigger with wonderment but Thranduil ignored the awe and questions pouring out from a set of familiar blue orbs. Bringing the golden head towards him, he pressed a light kiss and spoke, "But without knowledge, you will not grow up to become a wise elf. You would want to be wise, wouldn't you?"

Orophin's cheeks were tinged with red as Thranduil spoke. His eyes sparkled with an unknown joy and it was that very joy which kindred deprived emotions within Thranduil. Subtly he gave a little nod before his eyes darted from Thranduil's place and landed on a spot right over his shoulders.

A small frown crossed Thranduil's brows when he noticed Orophin's attention fleeting from him. He desperately tried to hold it by adjusting his head in the line of Orophin's sight but his son's eyes were restless and were searching for something, making it very hard for him to keep his focus on the elven king.

Suddenly, his son's eyes widened. The restlessness stopped and they became fixed on one particular direction as Orophin's whole posture became more excited.

Thranduil's state of confusion increased all the more at the sudden turn of reaction from the other. Giving up on trying to meet his gaze, Thranduil looked over his shoulder at the place where Orophin was staring. Just as his eyes took in the sight in concern, a hot wave of jealousy flowed through him.

There just a few feet away from them stood the healer. The  _elleth_  who had snatched Orophin away from him.

His heart suddenly brewed with anger that he withheld within him for so long and out of that anger did he unconsciously glared at her.

The healer must have seen the rage flashing in his eyes which made her glance at them with extreme fright and weariness—wishing to reach forward but not being  _allowed_  to.

Thranduil would keep it so had it been up to him. He would keep his child out of the sinister lady's reach—the one who had  _dared_ to spread lies and deception; the one who had cut him off entirely from his only child's life.

His trance was broken when Thanduil's palms registered a small shuffling motion. Without a moment to spare, the older elf quickly faced his kin. His eyes widened with a great shock and upon seeing the state of his son, he felt his heart again shattering to a million pieces.

Orophin was not even bothered about his presence. He was shifting in his hold, looking longingly at the healer as his eyes brightened with a joy of which Thranduil had not had the privilege of being the subject!

His eyes stung with tears welling up as his chest began throbbing with a great pain, piercing him roughly with its jagged edges.

His own child was not even acknowledging the blood relation he shared with Thranduil. He did not have the slightest idea that the person before him was not merely a king to be admired! It was his own father. It was his parent—who bore him for one whole year and who would shower all his love and blessings on him unconditionally.

He hadn't known...and it was all  _her_ fault.

Anger took him over once more, replacing the pain with a boiling fury as he once more glared ahead. It was  _her._ All because of  _her_ did he find it unable to hold his own child. It was  _her_  fault that he was deprived of his child's affection as was Orophin deprived of the truth!  _She_ had taken him away and she was never going to let him have the right which Thranduil held!

And now she was looking at his child with her devious glance, weaving lie after lie and shrouding  _his_  son's eyes. How much she  _dared_!

A sharp gasp escaped Thranduil's lips as he felt a small tug at his arms, only to have them feel the gentle circulation of air underneath them. He looked over his shoulder once more and at once realized why his hold felt so empty. As he did, his heart had sunk even lower and the anger which was boiling so furiously disappeared within moments where a wrenching pain now took its place.

Orophin was running over to the elleth. He ran and ran and didn't even spare a glance back at the vulnerable father, who was now looking helplessly at his retreating back.

Thranduil's chest throbbed immensely and the pressure he felt behind his eyes escalated enough to cause a burning sensation within his heart, eyes and stomach.

Then Orophin called out to her.

"N-nana!"

Thranduil's face remained frozen for a good few seconds.

"Nn-nana!"

Without any warning, it twisted in pure anguish and he quickly looked away, unable to bear the sight any more.

Orophin was now hugging that elleth and was talking and giggling with so much animation which was not there at all when Thranduil took him close to himself. He heard his son's giggles, laughter, naughtiness, cheekiness, innocence, joy, delight—everything all at once and every bit of it was directed at  _her._

Soon, he heard the light steps of two pairs of feet, fading gradually into the distance. They were leaving...his son was walking away, leaving him behind without any second notice.

No, it wasn't his fault. Orophin was but a child. He did it unknowingly! The main culprit was  _her_.

 _She_  had made him leave his side. She had taken Orophin away from him yet again and once more Thranduil was helpless!

He was left alone, still kneeling on the ground. Even if he anticipated a promise of future visits from his son, it never came. Even if he wished to hear a gentle 'Ada', it never came. What did come was the cold realization that Orophin was still out of his reach.

And once more as it dawned on him, Thranduil broke down entirely.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^^; Please review!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: 'The Hobbit' is the sole property of J.R.R Tolkien and New Line Cinema. I am only borrowing the characters. Well...not all, Rainion is mine. :3
> 
> AN: If you are wondering about the lack of focus on Thranduil and Rainion's romance, this chapter will help you understand.
> 
> Let me just say how awesome you all are for commenting, bookmarking and for sending kudos! Thank you all~~

Rainion whipped his head up. The sound of rough steps against the cave floor echoed throughout the grand chambers, indicating the arrival of only one whose steps had occasionally gained that edge. He hastily turned when the steps came from just behind him and immediately, the little flutter of happiness that he felt within disappeared as Thranduil's soured expression came into view.

The elf king took no notice of his lover. Instead, he simply went past him like a gust of wind and chose to stand in front of a small desk set against the wall.

Cautiously, Rainion began approaching. He stopped in a respectable distance which gave Thranduil his space and also allowed Rainion an opportunity to reach out should he be required to do so. However, Thranduil was paying no attention to him. Instead, all Rainion saw was rigidity adorning his lover's slender frame— alert and cautious, as if almost daring anyone to lay a finger on him.

The splay of golden hair fell on Thranduil's back like a cascading waterfall— bright and delicate—veiling the sides of his face from unwanted notice. His fists were curled into balls and when noticed closely, Rainion could easily see the little tremors emanating from them, travelling swiftly up his arms and shoulders.

Thranduil's face was obscured from Rainion's angle. However, from the way his head was bent it was not hard to guess the flower vase atop the desk, where Thranduil chose to focus his gaze on.

His hands ghosted over the stiff shoulders— finger tips brushing over carefully but not  _touching_. Even then Thranduil didn't turn.

Rainion's breath hitched in his throat. His chest was bubbling with an ominous feeling which only roused a cold chill settling at the pit of his stomach. His eyes glanced over the tense form once more and again an icy breeze ran down his spine.

From what he had gathered over the past two years, Thranduil's silence was far more foreboding than any pack of orcs. It was more vicious than any blood-spilled battle.

For it involved Orophin. It involved a father's anguish of depravation. And for a parent who was  _blessed_ with a child after many tribulations, 'furious' would never be sufficient for what Thranduil was now feeling.

"Meleth, words kept within cause more harm than good," he finally gathered the courage and said, laying a hand on Thranduil's shoulder. "Do you wish to tell me what bothers you?"

He flinched slightly when Thranduil jerked off his hand and went on ignoring him. Rainion's heart clenched with a tight grief when once more he was made so distant.

He looked hopefully at Thranduil's back, hoping that in a moment Thranduil would open up to him, as he did during those days when they were finally starting to bond. Like those days when they had shared shy glances or the time when he felt the other's soft lips pressing against his own...

Suddenly, a voice spoke out from within his mind.

 _Lies,_ it screamed making Rainion frown at the very accusation.

Lies?

 _Yes, lies! When have you even had the privilege of knowing who Thranduil is? When have you been allowed to witness him up front and_  not  _from a distance? When did he open up to you?_

His frown deepened. The dull throb in his chest was growing steadfastly into sharp stabs, tearing him up from inside with every pierce they made.

He knew Thranduil very closely, he tried convincing himself. While all others saw a very regal and cold elf, he was the one who had witnessed a very fragile being— warm and delicate as the sun's rays, fresh and pure like a newly blossoming bud. He had seen a noble being putting his people's needs before his own. He had seen the pain and anguish behind those beautiful crystal eyes...he had seen love and joy when he first conceived properly. He had seen those very blue eyes sparkling with delight as he held his son for the very first time.

 _Has he held the same joy when he was trying to conceive the babe? Has he held the same love for_ you _? Had his eyes ever mirrored_ your _image?_

Rainion protested again but this time, it sounded weaker. His resolve was shifting with each question his conscience had jabbed towards him. With a few more, it began shaking. And after what his conscience asked, it all but remained still, crumbling under the horrible weight Rainion was forced to bear.

His _child. It was always_ his _child and shall always be_ his child. _Has Orophin been ever_ your _child? Has Thranduil ever registered_ you _as a father also?_

The answer was no.

A sharp gasp elicited from the other being, snapping Rainion out of his thoughts. He drew in a breath, taking a little while to hide a shudder from his voice now choked with sadness.

Suddenly the sound of glass shattering against the floor echoed throughout the vast chamber, startling Rainion so much that his held breath escaped with more fear than surprise. When he regained his senses, he slowly registered the form of his lover, now leaning against the table, breathing with heaves with just as much tension in his body which was very slowly beginning to recede.

His eyes then settled on to the empty spot where just moments ago stood the vase. Then, his focus landed on the floor where pieces of decorated glass law scattered around dropped flowers. Water gathered around the floor in a pool, wetting the intricately woven rug bearing the glory of Mirkwood and its history.

Before long, Rainion again brought his gaze up and this time, it stayed fixed on Thranduil. He again tiptoed over to the Sinda and with much careful deliberation, he placed a firm hand on the other's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance and support.

Thranduil's muscles felt stiff under his touch. In fact, the Sinda had not moved for a great while. Neither did he felt the need to move away from the touch. It was as if Rainion's presence wasn't even acknowledged and it was that which again brought a familiar sharp pang in the Silvan's heart.

Once more he was ignored. Once more he was pointed out how  _secondary_ he had always been.

It was as if Thranduil was lethargic. Not making a sound, not even making a single gesture. All he did was stand, still hunched and still silent.

A slow tremble arose from his shoulders, catching Rainion's attention again. Eventually it spread to the rest of the body, followed by a particular sharp gasp.

"Thranduil," Rainion called out softly, his sadness forgotten and being overladen with concern. "What ails you?"

A few more gasps escaped under the blonde's breath. His back was undulating prominently at which, the Silvan quickly took a hold of the other's shoulders and straightened him up.

A laboured and stifled scream choked out from Thranduil's viscera and as he was turned by the other, he promptly collided against Rainion's chest, falling limply with no ruse of his own as free tears slipped down his cheeks.

Rainion's own heart was anguished at the sight of his lover.

It was a father's despair and it was heart wrenching.

His hands tucked the weeping elf in, one of which then proceeded to stroke his beautiful hair purely out of instinct and practice. It was now almost a ritual with Thranduil seeing Orophin and the healer together and later crying bitterly about his own forceful dissociation. And it was always just as much gut stabbing. Thranduil seemed shattered. In shambles.

Rainion frowned just as that very thought crossed his mind.

Shouldn't  _he_  be in shambles too?

He squinted his eyes and let his mind continue with the trail of thought, his hands never stopping to cease the still crying father.

If Thranduil was devastated, shouldn't he be as well? He was sad for Thranduil not being able to hold his son...but did he not face the same situation? Should he not be weeping for his child as well? Should he too not be jealous of the bond shared between a non-relating elleth and their son? Did he not once protest himself being cut off from Orophin's lineage?

He was sad  _for_  Thranduil. He despaired  _for_  Thranduil but never  _with_ him. Did it mean that whatever he did was only meant to see Thranduil happy? Only Thranduil and never their son?

Did...did he ever feel the stab of not having to hold his son? Once?

Or was he so spent that he really had no form of reaction left in him?

It stung whenever Thranduil acted as if Rainion had none of his blood in the child. It stung that day when Thranduil openly forgot about him being the sire. But again, it was Thranduil's  _words_. Not his sentiment for his son. It was Thranduil's way of thinking that Rainion had no part in  _his_ life. And  _it_ was what stung Rainion.

Not...the lack of love from...

His eyes widened and quickly Rainion flinched away as if he had touched a hot iron. The action made Thranduil look up with confused and tear-sheen eyes. His cheeks were wet from the stream of water flowing down them. Two fresh streams still rested on them, shining beautifully against the light like pearls of a white sand where—

"No." Rainion's voice dimmed under the impact of his realization. He shook his head and slowly backed away. Thranduil opened his mouth and tried to speak something but his confusion was far greater than presence of mind.

As for Rainion, he was horrified. His heart was being swept by the cold northern winds, pricking him with guilt and shock each time they brushed past his chest. His face was pale and his hands trembled while they dragged against Thranduil's own pair.

He realized that he was not at all bothered about Orophin and the dilemma with his true parentage. No. In fact, he too saw Orophin as the healer's child. Never as Thranduil's. Whatever Thranduil unmindfully said or implied was his own reflection as well! At that point, he only wanted to be with Thranduil.

And now, that urge too was fading.

Thranduil realized something was utterly wrong He too squirmed away from the other's hold and kept on gazing with questioning eyes. Perhaps he too had realized just how fleeting their fancy truly was.

He quickly darted his eyes away and let his hand guide itself to his childless stomach, cradling it gently while he slowly faced the door. After a few moments, Thranduil's feet gently glided towards the door. His eyes were vacant and hollow, yet a dim intention peeked out from behind them. His steps were unmindful but filled with a subconscious purpose.

Rainion knew what the purpose was. He was going to Orophin. He was going to his child.

And Rainion simply stood, still horrified and still ashamed as the truth finally unfurled before him. He closed his eyes and let out a cold breath while a line of thinking flashed in his mind.

Perhaps he was unworthy of being here...the late king was right. Perhaps he was somehow unworthy of Thranduil. He had cringed then but now he understood why. He was a terrible lover and he was not even a  _father_!

Perhaps he would best be leaving where he brought great shame upon...perhaps, he should sail...

He would. But he could not. Not yet. Hopes of Thranduil's affection—no matter how flickering and dishonourable they were—still kept him in place.

And for that he was ashamed. He was such a disgrace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably I have given away the ending but hmm...have I? As I have said, I will try and keep it short. I'm wrapping the series up and I'll try and do it in this part itself. Please review.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em...I wish I did but it's all a wish.
> 
> AN: I am so sorry for making Rainion such a jerk. He won't be made any less darker but I am trying to make him seem more humane. I hope it shows through! D:
> 
> Thanks to all who have commented/kudo'd/bookmarked!

A shuddering gasp caught the healer's attention. Her hold on Orophin still strong, she looked up at the door. Her eyes reflected apprehension at the very next moment as they fell on a stone cold figure that gleamed with such a smouldering flame and his breath was so haggard that it dared to call up a storm at any moment.

Her hands falling limp for a split second, they became tighter around the elfling as they pulled him closer to her chest. At that, Thranduil's eyes flashed with rage, scorching her with the heat of its fire which made a trembling chill run down her spine.

She felt Orophin shifting in her arms, struggling very little while trying to get away from her sudden strengthless arms. Out of pure instincts, she lunged forward, trying to pull him back. However when Thranduil's eyes again flashed with intense anger, she let her son be and looked helplessly at the elven king.

* * *

Thranduil followed the elleth's every single movement, his chest burning with the unsaid desire of boiling her alive when he saw her in such a close proximity with  _his_ son.

His eyes were still tired from the tears he had shed just prior to his arrival but the tiredness was all forgotten when they landed upon the elleth's arms holding his son—keeping his son—close to her without any right.

His heart churned with a great despise for the lady when her filthy hands wrapped around Orophin, unwilling to let him be with his true parent.

Without any further thought, he quickly enclosed the distance between them, all along mindful of the scared gaze fixed on him but choosing to ignore it seeing as who it belonged to. He stopped right in front of the two of them, glaring down at her as he ordered spitefully, "Move."

His eyes narrowed when he saw the elleth trying to speak something in a feeble attempt to protest. They flickered as sharp words rested at the tip of his tongue. Perhaps his intention was quite apparent for the elleth quickly paled with one glance towards him. Without any further words, she looked down on her lap before rising up with a great apathy and slowly heading outside of her chamber.

She paused just at the border of the corridor, giving one last glance to the elfling. Her eyes were bright with fear for her king and tears apparently for  _his_ son and Thranduil's heart boiled seeing such a feigned emotion being woven around his child's eyes.

Soon after, she left the chambers and immediately Thranduil felt a relief like he had never felt before. Without wasting any further moments, he swiftly kneeled down and held his son by his shoulders, peering into his bright eyes.

Orophin's expression portrayed every bit of amusement as his large eyes regarded the elf king's subtle smile. The way his mouth parted clearly showed the great awe he was experiencing as Thranduil's nimble fingers caressed his cheeks.

A chuckle escaped Thranduil and he drew the child closer to him, pressing a soft kiss against his temple. He pulled back just enough to regard the elfling in front of him and his heart leapt with a great delight when Orophin's cheeks became lightly dusted with touches of red.

Cupping the soft baby cheeks, a warm glow lit his eyes as he whispered gently, "Do not be shy, my little one. I am not one who is so different from you."

At that, Orophin's blush increased and when he leaned against the warm touch against his cheeks, Thranduil could not keep the joy from being concealed in his radiant eyes. His smile faltered a little as his heart gave a tug all of a sudden. It was then that Thranduil felt a familiar pang in his chest, the same which he felt when for the first time Orophin's eyes cracked open and gazed wondrously at the new father. A warmth radiated from within him, growing all the more intense as he was reminded the bittersweet pain of wishing for a miracle and finally having one right in his arms after gruelling hours of labour.

"You need not be afraid," soothed Thranduil, at which Orophin perked up and looked at the other with eyes full of expectation. Tracing the elfling's jaws with gentle fingers, Thranduil slid them down on the child's throat, rubbing it lightly as he went on, "You have a beautiful voice,  _penneth_. You need not be ashamed of whatever gifts the Valar has given you."

Pain flashed in his eyes when his son looked down momentarily, quickly hiding his own wistfulness before it made way to his face. Looking unsteadily, he swiftly held Orophin's chin and tipped it slightly.

Orophin's wide gaze fell upon him. It held so many unvoiced emotions that even the witty elf king felt for a loss of words when the questions were hurled towards him.

Thranduil bit his lips, trying to keep his eyes from welling up. Those thoughts which were shoved at the back of his mind suddenly came forth and he remembered every single precautions which he had been forced to take so that his realm would not be in jeopardy. He remembered it all which Rainion had warned him against. Questions would arise, he had been told. Fingers would be pointed—on Orophin's lineage, Thranduil's purity and the 'flaws' of his son which made him 'unfit' to be a king.

He wondered if Orophin had been subjected to those as well. He wondered if he had been ridiculed by others for his uniqueness and his heart wrenched with sadness as the thoughts tore him apart.

"You are perfect," he whispered with nothing but truth ringing from his voice, "My son."

However, the last part of his speech was not caught by the one it was intended for. Orophin 's attention already strayed to the frame of the door and when Thranduil noticed the tiny frame growing stiff, he frowned a little and faced the door.

Upon seeing who it was, the frown disappeared temporarily, reappearing a moment later before his eyes gleamed with a protective streak.

Thranduil lurched for his son once more and held him close against his chest. His arms wrapped around the tiny frame and when Orophin didn't protest, Thranduil's hold on him became tighter as he glared at the Silvan.

Rainion was standing at the door, looking ahead with an extremely dismal expression. His lips were pressed tightly and the course of displeasure clearly was visible on his face as he took in Thranduil and shook his head lightly.

At that, the Sinda narrowed his eyes at the other and ran a hand through the child's hair, embracing him possessively while he looked at Rainion with a stern expression.

He was  _daring_  him to take his child away. He was  _challenging_  Rainion to snatch Orophin away from his lap as they had done it so many years ago. Then, he was helpless. But now, it was different. He was in control. He was here. And this time, he refused to let his child be taken away from him.

Rainion felt a stab in his heart when once again he realized he felt no emotions being invoked from the scene that lay ahead of him. His gaze fell on Thranduil's form and when his lover was looking back pathetically at him while holding on to Orophin for dear life, he felt the stab pushing deeper inside his chest at the clear animosity in his lover's eyes.

He shook his head lightly. He understood now that he only vied for Thranduil's love. He only wished for his attention. And being subjected to none, he felt himself wither away like a forgotten plant.

They were not a family. They were broken.

And he was so fed up of trying to hold it together. He had enough.

He fixed his expression and sighed under his breath. Thranduil was still glaring at him and was running his hand up and down Orophin's head, smothering him with protection.

"Come, he needs to study."

* * *

He made an excuse. He was not bothered about the child's tutelage. Not so much as a parent should. He just wanted Thranduil to come away from there. He just wanted to see his lover leaning against him and asking for his support. He wanted Thranduil's attention. He wanted to feel  _needed_. It was wrong. But Rainion would be more dishonest if he feigned concern for a child where there was none.

"He needs to be with me," Thranduil hissed back, pressing a kiss on his son's forehead, keeping his glare still on the Silvan. "I doubt that an hour without studying will do him much harm."

The sharpness was clear from Thranduil's voice and it was made clear that Rainion's interruption was not appreciated. Still, he couldn't walk away. Still Rainion wouldn't let himself walk away.

"Thranduil, you must come with me now. I am sure Orophin will not be harmed without a hour's worth of studying but I doubt it is only an hour he is missing, hm? Are you little one?" He directed the last bit towards the child, who peeped up at him over Thranduil's arm as his eyes shone with a mischievous glint.

"Ah, that would explain it," he chuckled dryly, giving up the attempt when Thranduil's glare intensified. "Come now, let us leave him to his routine."

He stretched his hand out and waited with a fake composure, all the while his heart paced faster and faster with anticipation. His mind was whispering words of an unconventional line of thought and the more he dwelled upon them, the more thrilled Rainion became.

He followed slow movement of Thranduil releasing the child from his embrace. Certain mellowness spilled from Thranduil's eyes as he took his time to simply hold his son by his arms. After a while, Thranduil rose up from the ground, dragging his palms against the tiny arms before reluctantly he came and joined Rainion.

Rainion had not missed the wistful look crossing Thranduil's face as he gazed into Orophin's questioning eyes...nor did he miss the same beautiful face schooling into a cold mask as he went past the Silvan.

Rainion felt the churn of sadness of being the enemy in his lover's eyes but when the hushed words in his mind became stronger, he suddenly began feeling a glimmer of hope.

Thranduil wanted a family. He wanted his son...and the kingdom would require an heir. If he made it all possible, if he brought the joy back in Thranduil's life, then would he be loved again? It wouldn't be Orophin. It was too late for Thranduil to claim Orophin as his child—not unless they wanted to be a part of a massive scandal. But with another child, Thranduil would not be as desperate as he was now, would he not?

He prayed to the Valar for his plan to work. He wished earnestly that they would once again be happy...that Rainion would once again feel loved.

However, Thranduil had given up on the medicine after his conceiving of Orophin. He had not touched it since...and given his condition, Rainion was not sure if he would be able to conceive again. And even if he did, the Silvan was doubtful of Thranduil's ability to sustain another new life.

He had been told about Thranduil's infertility. Thranduil had spoken of this himself. Back then, they had trust...they were blooming new trust and feelings.

He urged desperately for Thranduil to be cured. He urged desperately to have those feelings bloom again...and this time, he prayed to the Valar for their sustenance.

Otherwise,  _nothing_  would keep Rainion in Arda. Nor would  _anyone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's dark, yes, but it'll get a little lighter. It will. :( Hm. So, do tell me if it gets too much! Please review.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing here is owned by me, save for the OC's.
> 
> AN: I'm almost certain about the ending. I think you might have an idea too as to where this is finally heading. So, let's go with the flow and see what happens. :)
> 
> Thank you for your continuous support!

Rainion fell back heavily on the bed, rolling to his side to cup those familiar cheeks that had grown acquainted over the past trials of rekindling their passion. He felt the body underneath him stiffen but Rainion ignored them for the time being and proceeded to claim familiar sweet lips.

It took enormous amount of prodding from his part before slowly Thranduil's lips began moving beneath his own. Unenthusiastic at best, the kiss became soon one-sided when Thranduil merely felt sluggish and allowed Rainion to take charge. His hands simply stopped caressing and sat on the other's back, and by the way he was touched, Rainion would not take long to guess exactly where Thranduil's interests lay.

Yet he tried. He tried as best as he could to invoke the same love that bore them Orophin. He tried invoking the same passion that he constantly felt for the Sindarin elf whenever his eyes were cast on this ethereal beauty. However much like his passion, Rainion's attempts at intimacy too were swiftly dwindling.

His lips insisted to deepen the kiss. His roaming hands urged Thranduil for some kind of response. When he received none, Rainion proceeded to drag his lips down Thranduil's sternum and slowly part the other's thighs. He noticed a sharp intake of breath coming off from the other. He felt Thranduil's knees offering a little protest before allowing some lax for Rainion to manoeuvre them. It was as if Thranduil was making his apathy clear and spewed a message that Rainion was so insatiable that he cared not for whatever sentiments his lover would feel.

It was that which stabbed Rainion in his heart. It was that which had caused a scar on top of the wound which he had been receiving ever and ever again upon Thranduil's return.

He positioned himself accordingly and reached out for the vial of oil placed beside the bed. He generously slicked his fingers. Stretching Thranduil, he inserted one finger at which, Thranduil gasped through his teeth and arched his back, trying to get accustomed to the new burning sensation that he was suddenly flooded with.

Rainion inserted another finger and stretched Thranduil's inner walls. He felt an arm snaking around his own, squeezing it lightly before a moan escaped Thranduil's mouth. Another finger and the grip on him increased. It caused Rainion some pain but regarding it as Thranduil's way of coping with pain, he continued on.

Another finger and it was then that he registered a stinging sensation on his arms among the pain. Rainion frowned and went on with his work. His eyes shot open when suddenly, the grip on him became deliberately tough and he felt nails digging into his skin.

Rainion paused, pondering if he should ask what Thranduil was bothered about. He was all the more shocked when Thranduil's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"These efforts do not worth the sentiment. It is all but a formality, you would agree."

Rainion immediately pulled out his fingers. Thranduil winced at the sudden movement but Rainion decided on paying no notice. He sat beside Thranduil and asked, his frown deepening, "These efforts are made to renew the sentiment. To speak of it as formality is demeaning, you would agree."

Thranduil propped up on his elbow, before pushing himself against the headboard. Even in the darkness of the chamber, Rainion could see flashes of anger burning in Thranduil's eyes which were directed entirely upon him.

"I speak that which is true," Thranduil replied in an acidic tone. At that, Rainion flinched— both at the way he was spoken to and the fact that Thranduil was right.

"The sentiment has passed over decades," Thranduil went on icily and the more he spoke, more his words pierced Rainion like sharp shards, "It is now a question of having a child, is it not?"

Rainion's eyes grew wide with bafflement.

"Is that what it all is to you?" He asked, looking scandalized at the very implication Thranduil was making. "Does a child always have to come in question whenever it is about us? Are we not based upon anything other than such a need?"

What did he think Rainion was? Only one who worried about an heir? Someone who saw Thranduil as this bearer and nothing more?

"We are _solely_ based on that, Rainion!" Thranduil said with extreme honesty, his voice devoid of any emotion other than pure frustration and the addressed became still all of a sudden. "Without a child, no relation lasts. I have  _seen_ it and though I do not put you in the same level as that disgusting excuse of a creature, it is true that without a child, you will drift apart from me."

Thranduil seemingly paid no attention to Rainion's demeanour and went on, "You have tried over these years and you have failed." His eyes were flashing with a fire of annoyance. Thranduil's voice took on the sharpness of a sword and the sneer which was visible in the dimmest light was more than enough to elicit a reaction from the other.

Rainion's blood rushed to his head at Thranduil's words. His lips formed a sneer of their own and Rainion retorted back just as much harshly, "Be that as it may, it was  _your_ lack of contribution that  _caused_ me to fail!"

"Then why keeping up the facade?" Thranduil hissed, narrowing his eyes dangerously, "You bother about our intimacy as much as you bother about Orophin and his true heritage! So why still you keep trying is beyond my thinking! "

"It is not true, you know that!" Rainion was on the verge of shouting. His heart suddenly wrenched with a sorrow and a guilt that he always was conscious about. "I have always maintained my truest of feelings when it came to you. It was  _you_ who came to me when  _you_ needed me!"

"And you did not need me? You could have left me and saw what was good for you but here we are!"

"Do  _not_ speak about me like I am a mongrel dwarf and do  _not_ speak to me about our son!" Rainion finally shouted, which stunned Thranduil temporarily. Orophin was always a sore spot for Thranduil but he was a sore spot for Rainion as well. "What was I to do? What would I tell him? That you are his father?"

"Yes! You should have told him that I  _am_ his father!" Thranduil retorted sharply when his anger vanquished his stunness.

"Would he not be liable to lazed gossips? Would you really believe him to lead a good life being under scrutiny like that? You remember, we are not bound and you remember what that makes our son!"

"You lied and let that horrible woman steal my son away from me. You remember what that makes  _you_!"

"Whatever you might think, I only did it having his best interests in mind!" Rainion was growing desperate. Somehow, he could not even trust his own words. They were sounding fake to him and perhaps to Thranduil as well who now flared up.

"What you only did Rainion," Thranduil said chewing every word, his voice dangerously low, "Was to keep  _your_ best interest in mind. But surely you must remember that I am not one of those blessed ones who would be ripened naturally. And I have long forsaken that medicine. That in itself is apparent from many of our attempted nights of  _passion._ "

Thranduil was heaving by the time he finished. He was glaring daggers at Rainion whose breath hitched at the words that escaped Thranduil's mouth. His heart was racing and a sudden cold chill was running down his spine as he realized that he had none to say back to Thranduil as a proper reply. For there was none. Thranduil  _was_ right. And deep within his heart, Rainion also knew what he had done and it was that realization which made him demean himself each time he was unable to suppress it.

Thranduil's stare was still fixed upon him, accusing him silently with cold ice like daggers pointed towards him. Under that pinpointed stare, Rainion suddenly felt himself wishing to be cowering away, frustrated for not being able to do so.

Suddenly, Thranduil's gaze wavered. Rainion blinked becoming alerted at the change in the other's demeanour. He opened his mouth, wanting to speak of a new opportunity but before he could do so, the covers on the bed shuffled and Thranduil rose up, wordlessly moving towards the other part of the chambers. He did not even glance back at Rainion's devastated face. He simply picked his robe up and walked away towards the window peering up at the night sky.

Rainion watched for a great while before dropping his gaze. He was not new to the silence that stretched between them now. He was not new to the routine that would now follow. As practiced, he quietly gathered his own clothes and covering himself, he silently left the chambers.

* * *

 

Thranduil waited till the faintest sounds of footsteps disappeared into the wind. Once alone, he sighed and leaned back against the adjuscent wall. Mellowed eyes were stretching beyond the distance, onto the moonlit forest which surrounded them. The entire wood was bathed in a beautiful soft glow and the stars seemed brighter than any other day as they flickered in the night sky.

He drew in a large breath. Far off into the night, he could hear faint rustling of leaves as the winds caressed them. The woods were peaceful. They had been so for some time and Thranduil hoped that the peace would last this way. But the peace in his mind and heart was fleeting swiftly. So fast that it scared Thranduil.

His relationships were in shambles. Now, he could not look at Rainion. The way he was touched made his skin crawl and sting with irritation. The way Rainion demanded his attention made his mind throb with annoyance. Once Thranduil vied for it. Now he could not even tolerate it.

He let out a choked sound at the very thought. Somehow, no matter how frustrating rainion had become, Thranduil couldn't truly stay away from him. The elf still made his heart throb and flutter at the same time. The elf still made him dream about having a family...a wedding...and a kingdom which would prosper under them.

Perhaps...he still wanted his attention and maybe he was not ready to let Rainion go.

The land which had shown signs of fertility too was proving false. Some saplings perished and only a few remained. Thranduil had seen it. He was terrified. Now that he had seen Rainion's attempt, he too could not help but wonder of his own self and a child who miraculously had not suffered the fate of all the unborn.

He had grown colder. He was made to grow distant from his only son and now that Rainion wanted to 'rekindle their passion', Thranduil felt ever so suffocated. Not initially but...somewhere, he felt that it was more forced than desire.

He closed his eyes, placing a gentle hand on his stomach as he slowly began caressing it.

Rainion was trying once more. But over six decades of not taking care for himself, the effect of the medicine was slowly wearing off.

His past uncovered once more. They haunted him, pointed his inability out effectively. Once more before his eyes, images of him and Thorin appeared. The love in their respective eyes, whispers of promises, warmth of kisses, tingling of love-made skin— everything felt so fresh.

The images wavered. Memories of their joyous times now dissolved away uncovering those of bitterness and sadness. Thorin's angry face came in view when he learnt of Thranduil's pregnancy, Thror's words echoed once more in his head. Thror accused him of infertility. He showed Thranduil the way out of Erebor and Thorin too did not accept Thranduil when all he did was give Thorin a way for them to be together.

Thorin unappreciated his son and now Rainion did as well. And here he was trying to fix their broken link? Rainion asked Thranduil to make an effort?

Thranduil had no desire to mend it. He had no desire to fix his relationship with Rainion.

His palm pressed over his torso as Thranduil scrunched up his face, withholding the tears which were threatening to spill from his eyes.

He only wanted his son.  _Only_  Orophin. Nothing else mattered.

However, despite how many times he told himself that, Thranduil still couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart whenever he was faced with the reality that he and Rainion were growing apart. He hurt. He pained...and afterall that he told himself, he just couldn't bear the thought of losing his lover.

With a deep breath, Thranduil finally turned and headed towards their chamber.

By the time he had reached, rainion was seen curled up to his side of the bed and that very sight somehow made Thranduil flush with emotions he thought had left him. With a gentle smile, he approached the other and lay down beside him.

Thranduil brought the covers on both of their bodies and Rainion's grateful sigh of relief was more than effective in expanding Thranduil's smile to a grin.

He bent down and gently kissed his lover's cheeks and whispered, "Forgive me."

He was about to lay down but was extremely surprised when a hand stopped him. Thranduil turned and sighed when he saw Rainion's sleep had been broken and that his lover was now looking at him earnestly, holding his hand.

"Forgive me too," Rainion said softly. "I did not mean half the words I spoke."

Thranduil shook his head and curled up towards Rainion. Pleased to find he was gladly accepted, Thranduil placed his hand on Rainion's chest and said, "I understand,  _meleth._  It is just...that I fear."

"Fear what?"

"Fear for us," Thranduil rasped not attempting to hide the shudder in his breath, "I—that  _dwarf_  used me and filled my head with promises and when he found out about my...condition, he just left. And he used me. He used me and killed my kin and Elu Thingol and stole the Nauglamir. He- he is  _despicable_!"

He inhaled and took a moment to compose himself. Rainion's hand was on his waist, brushing along its slope in a soothing manner, as if silently telling Thranduil that it was alright. He was here.

Thranduil again began, "And I fear that the bitterness in me will drive you away too." His hand slid up to Rainion's shoulder and held on to it firmly. "And I do not want to lose you."

Rainion was quiet for a long while. When it seemed that he had no words to speak, Thranduil was met with an absolute response, "I shall not leave you. Not unless you want me to go."

Thranduil smiled and pressed a kiss on his lover's lips.

"Now go to sleep."

With that, Thranduil finally let himself succumb to the day's weariness. He did not notice the wistful look on rainion's face as he watched his love drift off to sleep. He did not notice the mixture of hope and dread which marred Rainion's face as if he was foreseeing an omen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Only the OC's are mine. Nothing else.
> 
> AN: Make way for more drama~
> 
> Thank you again for your wonderful response!

Orophin was playing outside his chamber, hopping on one leg, trying to dodge the tiny grids he had marked with a piece of chalk. It was dawn and the corridors were silent—free from the daily hustle which would occur not too long after, when the elves of Mirkwood would finally be engaged in their everyday activities.

His mother would still be asleep, Orophin guessed, for she had been quite busy the previous nights, always hunched over a table with pieces of parchment and ink, scribbling words and sending letters to what she would tell as her distant relatives.

Even Rainion would show less and less of himself. The king, though, would always make an appearance before him.

It was odd. For Orophin was told how great responsibilities lay with Thranduil, how little time he had for himself before he would again be summoned to court and impart judgement.

He, of course, felt a great sense of awe and privilege whenever Thranduil would make some time to ask him pleasantries. Most of the days, the king would simply sit across him, smile at him at times while in the other times, he would hold a distant look in his eyes as his gaze would fall upon Orophin.

As days grew, the king too grew sombre. He looked sad. And the moments of his wistful gazes now turned to time. And Orophin was left confused.

Suddenly, the door to his chamber opened and the sound of it, Orophin stopped his game and looked up questioningly.

His mother was peering down at him, her face stern and serious. She motioned with her head, asking Orophin to come inside. At other times, he would protest; ask her to allow him some more time to play before he would be asked to study.

However now, he obeyed without a word. Something in his mother's face was warning him not to argue with her. Something told him to do what was asked of him.

And Orophin obliged.

* * *

 

Thranduil woke up with a start as the brisk sunrays fell upon his face through the large window. Gentle chirps of birds floated in the air as the forest too was waking up.

He groaned and sat up, rubbing off the sleep from his eyes. Once the bleariness evaded, he looked around only to realize that he had drifted off to sleep against the same wall he was leaning against the previous night. A great lethargy washed over him and Thranduil wished he could stay there just a while longer, away from the morning rush; away from dilemmas in court, bickering of old elves over something trivial and...Rainion...

His gaze darkened the moment thoughts of his once-lover crossed his mind.

_Rainion._

What had enforced him to even tread along that same road, he wondered. What had made him vie for the elf's attention? Was he so lonely? Was he so desperate to  _need_ someone when his world and dreams with Thorin had burned to the ground?

Anger seeped through his eyes as Thranduil narrowed them, settling on his lap.

Any respectful elf would have walked away and live to his own terms after the immense embarrassment he had to face with the selfish line of Durin. He should have found any other means of engaging himself; he should've raised his child alone for  _himself_ rather than hoping to win back Thorin's affection.

Yet he didn't. He was a fool for ever hoping that a greedy race such as his would ever openly appreciate Thranduil's efforts!

Dwarves saw nothing but where their gain lay. They saw nothing _except_  what could escalate their status and what could ruin them. They needed Thranduil for an heir. They needed Thranduil for merging their kingdoms and ruling over them. Once they realized Thranduil couldn't, they shoved him aside.  _Thorin_ shoved him aside.

But that was not something he held against them now. Thranduil had  _nothing_  to do with murderers and thieves. It was better that they didn't require his services. Perhaps it was the Valar's way of protecting him from their greed. To lend a hand in Thingol's murder, to assist in the stealing of the revered artefact—Thranduil would _never_  forgive himself for being a part of that horror. He would  _never_  forgive himself for fathering the child of a cold blooded murderer.

Shrugging aside all such thoughts, he finally picked himself up from the ground. His normal grace lacked slightly from just waking up. As unwilling as he was to get ready for court, Thranduil's mood brightened somewhat with the consideration of seeing his son.

With that glimmering hope in mind, he at last headed for his morning routines.

* * *

 

"Wh-where are w-we going?" Orophin asked, baffled by the way his mother was making haste with their luggage.

The healer looked up for a moment before once more engaging in packing their clothes and other necessities.

"To our kin in Lórien," she replied, her fingers fumbling with the knots in their travel packs.

"W-why?" Asked Orophin, surprised to know that he even had relatives outside of Mirkwood. Though on one hand it thrilled him with promises of adventures in an exotic land, on the other, he was extremely confused as to why his mother had never mentioned those relatives to him before...or the fact that she was hurrying all of a sudden, without any apparent cause.

He asked again, though this time he went unanswered.

He watched silently as his mother rushed, thousands of questions bubbling in his head and asked again. His mother must've heard for her hands stopped temporarily before once more engaging in her work without sparing him a glance.

Eventually, Orophin stopped altogether and stood by. From then on, he would never ask why his mother had made such a decision. Nor would he ever have the chance to realize who his birth parent was.

* * *

 

Thranduil strolled calmly along the corridors now gently teeming with people engaged in their regular activities. The apathy rendered to him by the recent events was slowly waning away and Thranduil's mood began to be pleasant when the very prospect of spending time with his son came to mind.

The stretch of the corridor extended till the eyes could see and the more Thranduil advanced, more his anticipation grew. As he passed by the guards he was greeted by them in the most courteous manner. Somehow, Thranduil managed to acknowledge them back with the barest hint of a nod. He had no mindset for pleasantries for it lay elsewhere as it had been for many days which had passed.

The length of the corridor became infuriatingly long. Each turn came and every time, Thranduil would be greeted by his guards. Gradually, Thranduil's interests ebbed from them. Whatever little acknowledgement he threw back transformed into minimal formality till that too was lost in the midst of his thoughts.

His steps quickened. His heart raced faster beat by beat as anticipation turned into anxiety.

Thranduil took a sharp left and rushed ahead. His brows were deepening with a frown as his heartbeat turned to pounds, hitting against his chest, making it throb with a foreboding feeling.

He was about to walk ahead to the junction leading to the throne room. Peaceful and devoid of prying eyes, it was usually the place where Orophin would be found playing. However, something in the form of a tiny voice within his mind warned him. It told him not to waste time searching in a place where he would unlikely find any result. It told him to look in his heart and listen to it as it knew very well the answers to the questions he was asking himself at the current moment.

Thus, Thranduil changed his direction and instead of heading straight, he took another sharp turn towards the left.

He was now approaching towards where his intuition led him to. His chest constricted and his lungs felt like being crushed under the sheer burden of fretful feelings pressing down against him.

All of a sudden, Thranduil felt cold chills against his skin as an unknown fear took hold of him. His intuition spoke words of warning. His heart told him it was better to turn back yet he could not. Failing to resist his inner voice, Thranduil's legs suddenly took a life on their own and carried him to the healer's chamber.

He knew he had to see for himself, despite the many protests he felt emerging from his heart.

Thranduil stood frozen. His eyes were transfixed upon the barrenness in front of him, widening with shock and disbelief at the sight which greeted him.

Not a single being was there in the chamber. The vials of medicine were gone; the texts that were always kept on the desk were no longer there as well. The shelf where there would be clothes lay empty. Only some old parchment lay scattered on the floor as if it was a result of a mad dash.

Thranduil drew in a shaky breath and let his eyes sweep the room once more. The healer was not there. Though she was the least of his concern, the one who  _was_ , however,came to his thoughts and just as he did, Thranduil felt his heart again being clenched with a dread that he always feared of experiencing.

Orophin...he was not there. Nor was the healer or any of their belongings.

Desperation set in. Thranduil suddenly felt light-headed as he swayed a little before altogether his knees gave away, refusing to carry his weight at that particular point.

Thranduil collapsed hard on the ground. His face had taken in an unhealthy hue as the horror became extremely vivid in his big round eyes. His breathing became laboured. Thranduil looked down on to the floor, parting his mouth ajar as if to try and force air down his throat. His chest pained when a scream tried escaping him.

By then his mind was rushing with many line of thoughts, clashing and colliding against each other till nothing was left that would be considered coherent. His hands began trembling. His breathing became erratic just as his ears muffled every sound about him but that of his own heart which was just as much erratic.

Orophin was gone. That elleth had taken him.

A hand curled beside him, clutching the fabric of his robe with such a great force that his knuckles became white as the redness around them hovered way.

Thranduil knew. He knew that one day would come when this would happen; when the elleth would snatch away his son from him and that no one would be there to stop her.

His fists clenched and his eyes fumed as a bout of anger tore his insides apart. His fists tightened even further. What started off as trembles of dread now turned to those of rage. Suddenly, a crude thought crossed his mind.

Rainion. Did he not know of this? Did he not know of what that elleth was planning? Surely he must have had some inkling! After all, he too allowed her to indulge in the lies. He too knew of what had been told to Orophin and he too did not protest!

At that, Thranduil's gaze narrowed dangerously. All of a sudden, the clenching feeling in his chest was gone, now replaced with an uncomfortable sensation wanting to simply erupt at any moment. The anger that had been building inside of him over a long time now began to boil deep within the hearths of his chest.

Without a word, he suddenly rose up from the ground. Even though the harshness of the action made him tumble a little, maintaining his balance was hardly a concern for the Sinda at that very moment.

Rainion was a part of it, he thought. Then Rainion would know where his child was taken.

Thranduil swirled around, his robes flailing behind him in a fury and all of a sudden, he bolted from the chambers.

His steps were unsteady at first but grew more and more solemn as he flew by anyone who passed him, ignoring the queer looks shot at him as he made way down the corridors.

Desperation led way to an absolute decision. His thoughts grew solemn as he strode down the path. He need not even think of where to head next. His intuition was enough to guide where he had to go.

He knew where to find Rainion. He knew what he would say to that elf and what he would receive as replies. But Thranduil had had enough. They tried to keep him away from his son and so far they had succeeded. But no more.

Thranduil would bring Orophin back. To his rightful parent, to his rightful home! And if anyone dared to cross him, then Valar forbid, Thranduil would not hesitate to bring him down with one strike of his sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is almost drawing to a close. Only two/three chapters more to go. I'll try and end it as less abruptly as possible. Let me know about your opinion so far. I highly value them. :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
> 
> AN: Almost there...
> 
> Thanks for your continuous support, every one of you! :)

Rainion was sitting with a book of poems before him. He had hoped to be calmed down by the compositions, as they had done him many times before. He was startled when Thranduil stormed in.

His face was drawn to a blank canvas, devoid of any emotion. His lips were pressed in a thin line; jaws clenched, Thranduil's nostrils flared immensely with each breath he took. Blue eyes that had been dull for a long time suddenly gained vigour in them, burning with a furious flame that consumed his heart with nothing but rage.

"How  _dare_  you?" He shouted, taking the book from Rainion's hands and throwing them roughly on the table. The action caused the elf to wince and stare up at Thranduil in a bewildered manner which only aggravated the other.

"Thranduil, I—" Rainion tried speaking but was cut short by Thranduil.

"How dare you keep this from me?" Thranduil shouted again, shoving Rainion roughly at which the elf would tumble, shocked at Thranduil's action.

Thranduil paid no attention. He stepped forward and shoved Rainion again despite the bewilderment on the other's face and continued fumingly, "What did you hope it would accomplish? That you could make her keep  _me_  away from  _my_  son?"

A frown marred Rainion's forehead.

"What would accomplish? What are you speaking of?"

"What I speak of should not be unknown to the likes of  _you,_ " seethed Thranduil, his mouth inches away from the other, curled in a vicious snarl. "Such a disgrace she is! That elleth! She thinks she can escape from me. Let her go wherever she wants. I'll find her."

He truly was baffled, not having the slightest clue as to what Thranduil was accusing him of. However, one thing he realized effortlessly.

It had to do something with Orophin.

The moment this realization crossed his mind, Rainion's heart paused for a moment, gripped with a foreboding sense of anxiety.

"I truly am not aware of what you are talking about. Only that you always have something to blame me when you forget it is you who too had an equal hand in things," at last Rainion countered, not withstanding any more accusations causing Thranduil to slightly falter.

However, it did not take him long to regain his fire as he sneered, "Indeed. Indeed you are not aware. As you were not of the lies she had been feeding  _my_ son. Though you are right. I have a fair share of this blame. I knew better than to trust her with him. I knew better than to trust  _you_ with him. He needed  _me._ He needed his  _father._ And I went off to defend our realm when I should've stayed back and  _raised_ him. That is what you mean, is it not?"

Rainion was scandalized. What was Thranduil trying to point out? That he made Thranduil choose between his son and duty as a prince?

"Never have I implied such obscenity!"

"Yet you point out my share of the blame."

Rainion scoffed. He knew well how Thranduil came to be when it involved his son. He knew well how desperate Thranduil became whenever it involved the healer  _and_ Orophin. It was the same desperation he could see flashing in those bright orbs. It was the same anger which followed this haggard sense of loss.

After what felt like hours, Rainion opened his mouth but suddenly he found himself unable to come up with any apt answer. Suddenly, he found himself growing smaller and smaller before the intense gaze behind which was a silent trace of helplessness. His lips flickered wordlessly as did his gaze.

At last, Rainion closed his mouth, letting out a loud sigh which trembled under the enormous weight of the reality crashing against him.

Thranduil too softened. His rage was gone. The fire behind his eyes was slowly fading away. Thranduil looked calm but not composed. He looked exhausted.

And Rainion was afraid that this would not end in merely Thranduil walking away.

A bitter smile crossed Thranduil's lips. It was one that was small but still it managed to stab Rainion at his heart, twisting it with a powerful motion and letting the guilt within him bleed out.

Thranduil slowly started backing away and Rainion felt his grip slipping from the last strands of his world with every receding motion Thranduil made.

His hands remained lax by his sides. For the briefest of moments, his fingers twitched. He really considered of calling Thranduil back, tell him that it would be okay; that they would once again be a family that they never were.

Yet he didn't. For he knew it would be a lie. He knew that _Thranduil_  knew it would all be a lie, and to keep him tied with false promises was a sin Rainion would no longer commit.

His resolve strengthened. With slow movements, Rainion began to make way towards where he had kept his travel pack and clothes. His hands moved in a practiced pace. One by one, he began folding the necessary number of clothes, packing them calmly.

He had hoped to clutch on to Tharnduil. He had hoped to bring a joy which would make Tharnduil forget all about Orophin, which would make Thranduil love him.

Selfish thoughts— Rainion knew. Unworthy to be belonging to the sire of a child— he knew that as well. But that was all he was. Orophin's sire. Not  _father._ And to delude himself with lies of ever wanting to be one was something even the Valar could never forgive. It was unfair to him, to Thranduil and to Orophin.

So he would leave. As promised, he would release Thranduil from this facade. He would release himself from this lie. In doing so, he would hope that it would bring Thranduil some much needed peace of mind.

He would sail to Valinor.

And as time would progress, the chant of his name would slowly die from people's lips. His memory would soon fade into a mist. And one day, he would disappear among those many faces in Arda who were known once but never remembered.

* * *

 

"You're Majesty!" Thranduil stirred on his throne at the alarmed tone of a councilman. There was concern written all over his face and it was apparent that he was impatient, waiting for Thranduil to grant him his attention.

Thranduil sighed and nodded in a small gesture.

The other elf went on in a frantic tone, "Rainion is gone, Sire! His belongings are gone as well. I do not understand. He was here just this morning!"

The elf ended, looking eagerly up at his king, waiting for a reaction. When none came, he ventured, "My king, Rainion is gone! He was in charge of the supplementary plot which your father had planned. He knows how to tend to the seeds. He knows how to make the land fertile. With him gone, how will we sustain?"

Thranduil stared at him for a good few seconds before he looked away, missing the bewildered look on the councilman's face.

Somewhere deep within, a foreboding feeling burned. His heart was beginning to pang very mildly, causing a very dull ache which was growing sharper and sharper by the second.

He had foreseen it. He knew that such a day would come and now that he was faced with it, Thranduil felt the whole ground being taken off from his feet. His world spun and it was out of control. The councilman was speaking something, perhaps asking him questions but Thranduil's ears registered none of them.

His mind kept chanting one thing only and the more it did, the more painful his heart became.

Rainion was gone. He was gone and Thranduil drove him away!

And this time, if he did nothing then Thranduil would lose it all.

Suddenly he rose up from the throne startling the other elf.

"This morning you said?" He asked at which the Silvan elf nodded with bewilderment. Before he could even say anything else, Thranduil whirled past him and began storming his way towards the stables.

He would not stay put. He would not lose his entire world. Much had been taken from him but no more.

He would bring Rainion back.

"Sire, the seedlings?" The elf called back, clearly confused of the king's antics.

"We shall sustain. The seedlings will grow. They will prosper." Thranduil looking back at the other without breaking his stride. He did not speak words that he did not believe. Thranduil knew that life did not revolve or depend upon Rainion but his lover's strength and support had been the driving strength for Greenwood's sustenance. He knew that it had not been so over the last years, which was why he was now hopeful and confident that they would be able to pull through. "Have my word."

The councilman nodded at his words. His features had relaxed and the distress within him was slowly waning away. There was a certain calming quality in them, an optimism that touched him. Relieved, he bowed.

Thranduil faced ahead and practically jogged towards the stables. He mounted the first horse he could find and rode at full speed, determined to cover the miles before it was too late.

Even though one of the two lands had been claimed by unwanted weeds and vegetation, the other one was resilient. It managed to thrive even though there were ample chances at failing.

Already there were some sprouts unfurling from deep within the earth. Already there were some which showed promises of life.

Despite its barrenness, the land had thrived once. It would thrive again.

Tharnduil was hopeful.

Slowly, he raised his arm and settled it on his stomach along with his eyes. There was softness in his gaze, a sign of hopefulness which brightened all the more when a comforting warmth circulated within him.

"We will survive," he said gently, slowly caressing the life which was now growing within him— a gift from Rainion, a new chance of redemption.

Thranduil was hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, one more chapter to go before the epilogue!
> 
> I'd love to hear your feedback on this. So please review. :) And stay tuned!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
> 
> AN: Oukay guys. Remember when I said that this would have an utterly sad ending? Forget that! Forget! I worked overtime, did some tweaks, made some changes, wrote the shortest chapter there ever is and VOILA! An acceptable ending! ^_^
> 
> It has drama, it has fluff but it has a *proper* ending.
> 
> As always, thank you very much for your wonderful feedback!

The horse flew through the forest. The road was long and seemed like there was no end to the vast forest. Thranduil did not know how long he had been riding but he knew that he had not much time. He looked up anxiously at the sky, trying to get an estimate of the time but with the trees towering over and covering the sky with their canopies, Thranduil quickly decided against it and urged the horse to move even faster.

His eyes searched the forest, hoping—praying—for any sign that would lead him to where Rainion was. It was not in their customs to take a horse as they sailed. That meant that Rainion most likely had been going on foot.

That very likelihood gave Thranduil hope. It meant that he was not late. That he could catch up.

Suddenly, he gasped and pulled back the reigns of the horse, making the animal raise two feet in air with a wild neigh before placing them heavily back on the ground. As soon as the horse was stable enough, Thranduil quickly jumped down and precariously stumbled and ran towards a startled figure that was a few feet away from him.

The figure stood still, shocked and astonished at what he saw before him.

It was evident in his eyes that he had never expected Thranduil to be running towards him in such an ungodly manner but Thranduil could care less.

As soon as he was within arms' reach of the other, he flung himself towards the elf, wrapped his arms around his neck and fiercely claimed the elf's lips in a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Thranduil simply stared at the other with a sparkle in his eyes and a very bright smile on his lips before embracing him again.

"What—"

The elf began speaking but Thranduil quickly cut him off.

"How dare you?" He said burying his face in the other's chest. "How dare you leave us all like that? How dare you leave  _me_ like that? You said you would not unless I asked you to. So then who gave you the right, Rainion tell me?"

The addressed was still in shock. It was a long while after he managed to say, "You—I thought it would be for the best."

"You thought  _wrong_!" Thranduil yelled out, cupping Rainion's cheeks in his palms and kissing the elf's jawline, cheeks and neck. "You are what is best for our kingdom...you are what is best for  _me_. I have been blind and have been so enraged after she took Orophin away that I refused to see my support and my love withering away. I can't let it happen. I will not lose you."

"Then tell me," Rainion said quietly, his eyes kept affixed on Thranduil's as he slowly brought his arms up to embrace his lover back. "What would you have me do?"

"You will come back with me. You will wed me and I know we cannot change the past but you will help me building a better future." Thranduil paused before he spoke softly, "And you will promise me that our son will be happy. If he is, then so am I."

"I promise. She is a good woman. She loves him and she will raise him well," Rainion answered, his voice ringing with honesty. "It pains me too that it is not us who get to see him grow up. It is heart wrenching for you as well as I but as you have said, if it brings him joy then so be it."

Thranduil nodded and caressed the other's cheeks.

Soon the Silvan's eyes were shining with astonishment and delight. It was extremely clear that he had long forsaken the hope of hearing such words. And now that he was, he couldn't seem to be able to contain his joy and he didn't seem to know which reaction would suit him at that very moment.

Thranduil's smile widened, soft crimson dusting his cheeks. "I love you. I realized this after someone told me you were gone...and I realized I cannot have that. I cannot have you sail without me and I do not intend to leave for Valinor for a long time."

Finally a smile cracked on Rainion's face. His embrace tightened and soon, his smile broke into laughter as he realized what Thrandui's words truly meant.

"Then let me tell you," he began leaning towards the other and claiming Thranduil's lips in a slow and gentle kiss, "I really did not wish to sail so soon either."

Thranduil laughed. "Then we return?"

"We return."

On their way back, Thranduil quietly told Rainion about their future. As for Rainion, he thought that his life couldn't get any better. He was gladly proven wrong yet again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after! :D :D Till you read the epilogue of course. But it's not that sad so...phew! Please review~~


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
> 
> AN: The epilogue. And the second shortest chapter I have ever written!  
> I have a huge apology for you gusy for taking so long to put this one up. Just let me take a moment to explain why:
> 
> I initially thought of writing a book 3 exploring more about Rainion's past, his character and his current relationship with Thranduil. I won't lie, it would have been very 'angsty'. But, I felt like drawing this project for too long and making it unnecessarily complicated than it really should be.
> 
> I am still not sure about the ending. BUT, I hope that it is somewhat acceptable?

Their son was named Legolas.  He was showered with all the affections and attention from his parent who would never stay parted from him longer than necessary. He brought life to the realm with his youth and light to his father’s eyes and a glow to his Ada’s face.

Thranduil was finally at peace.

He ensured that Legolas got all that Orophin did not; that he would not make the same mistakes twice as he did with Orophin.

Thranduil and Rainion had married months after Rainion’s return. The wedding had been grand and Rainion soon won the hearts of the elves with his dedication and leadership, causing the patch of land under him to flourish.

Legolas grew up strong. His skills in archery were unmatched as was his parents’ pride for him.

But soon, things would grow darker.

Erebor and the Woodland Realm would have more than one encounter but the circumstances would be completely different. But that is a history known by all.

Legolas strengthened over time but so did the grimness which was beginning to surround the Woodland Realm.

Greenwood slowly became Mirkwood. Giant spiders began pestering the Woodleves.

Rainion too was becoming weary, burdened by the responsibilities which came upon him. The light in his eyes was fading. It was a struggle for him every single day to go and work. Till one day, he witnessed the anarchy brought on by the spiders.

Fight took place. Chaos ensued. Many elves’ lives were lost. Many were wounded. Blood had been shed. The destruction was monumental.

It was be all that he could bear. It was be all that finally drove him to Thranduil where he asked if he could sail. Seeing the tattered and worn down form of his lover, Thranduil let him but not before promising of joining him when the time would come.

And Rainion too promised that he would be waiting for his family.

With a tearful exchange of words of love, Rainion sailed along with some others who had seen too much.

Thranduil became sterner, his shoulders weighed down by the entire responsibility for his realm and the concern for his son.

He kept Legolas close to him— _near_ him—as much as he could. But he knew well enough that a day would come when Thranduil would have to let him go. A day would come when he would be again forced to be separated from his child.

And it did after Gollum’s escape from their hold.

He became restless, he prayed and worried every moment of every single day till he finally received word from Lothlorien. They told him of his son forming bonds with Haldir and his brothers. When the name of one of those brothers reached his ears, Thranduil shivered at his past hurling towards him. From that day itself he would be restless. He would be aching to go to the Golden Woods, search out Haldir’s _brother_ and embrace him tightly.

He would want to be the parent that he had never fully become. He would want to bring Orophin home. 

But Fate spoke differently.

One day, Helms Deep faced a battle. Till its end, Thranduil held his heart in hand, praying desperately to the Valar to keep his sons safe.

When he heard Legolas being the only elf alive, when he heard about the valiant efforts shown by Haldir, his brothers and his troops, he collapsed on the ground. He wept. He bawled till the pain in his heart would leave him numb.

However Legolas returned. Just as he set foot in Thranduil’s halls, he was met with Thranduil running towards him. He was embraced tightly against his father’s chest who shamelessly shed tears of relief. Thranduil refused to let Legolas go, cradling him as he did when Legolas was an elfling.

Though Legolas’ stay would be shortlived.

Thranduil again had to part with his child. He again had to bid goodbye to his son with misty eyes. This time, he knew Legolas would not be coming back. Instead, Thranduil was sure that he would be joining him and Rainion in years to come.

After centuries more, he sailed. In Valinor, he was finally complete.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was it. I want to take the opportunity to thank everybody who has been supporting this. It’s a quirky idea to wrap your heads around—I know. But I am also grateful for you guys sticking by and providing me with encouragement and advice which really motivated me. Thank you all,
> 
> Till next time~

**Author's Note:**

> As you see, the chemistry between Rainion and Thranduil is getting a bit complex. It's that transition phase and I really *really* hope that it comes across as believable.


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